


Ridiculous

by GettheSalt



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Sabriel Minibang 2011
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-08
Updated: 2012-06-08
Packaged: 2017-11-07 06:26:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 37,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/427940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GettheSalt/pseuds/GettheSalt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam Winchester and Gabriel Novak have known each other for years, since Sam was in high school and Gabriel was in his junior year of University. Thirteen years later, Gabriel is a pediatrician at York General, the same hospital where Sam works as the legal counsel. Neither knows that the other has carried a torch for them for the better portion of those thirteen years, but just about everyone else and their dog is no stranger to the fact. Having had enough, Sam's older brother Dean, and Gabriel's younger brother, Castiel, concoct a plan to force the two to admit their feelings for each other - or move on with moving on - and are joined in their mission by a wide array of characters from across the series. If this sounds like your standard rom-com, that’s because it is! Laughs and good times are a promise!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Sam Winchester, you are a god among lawyers"

High praise in a normal sense, disturbingly high praise considering his 'godly' act. Sam Winchester rolled his eyes, pushing the open Tupperware container across the hospital's cafeteria table. "Hardly. It's just a piece of pie, Gabriel, it isn't the Holy Grail."

Gabriel smirked, sticking his fork into the flaky crust of the cherry pie Dean had just brought home the night before. "Oh, are you holding out on me, kiddo? Pie's great and all, but if you had that grail to give me, I wouldn't ever have to worry about finding the place your brother gets this pie. I'd pay someone to figure out the exact recipe for me," he pulled the fork out of the container, laden with cherry filling and flaky pastry crust, sticking the gooey mixture between his lips and making obscene sounds.

"You know," Sam said, poking at his salad. "You're a pediatrician. What will your patients think if they hear you?"

Gabriel pulled the fork from his mouth, pointing it at Sam. "That's what you're here for, sport. Cleaning up the possible mess that I would make. And you call yourself a lawyer. You're never looking out to make your next buck. That is your problem."  
Sam snorted, shoving Gabriel's hand away, going back to his own food. The pediatrician had a point; Sam had a problem. It just wasn't the same one Gabriel claimed he had. Sam's problem was embodied in all five foot barely anything, caramel blonde, brown sugar eyed Gabriel. Not that the guy caused too many legal issues for the hospital that Sam, ultimately, had to resolve - in fact, in the three years Sam had been at York Region General, Gabriel had never once been involved in the hospital's legal ordeals. Nor, prior to that, had he seemed to show up. The guy was well liked by his patients and their parents. He got along with most of their coworkers. Some better than others. Gabriel was just damningly charming.

And that was Sam's problem. That charm had won him over when he was in his sophomore year of high school and hadn't even considered the idea that he could maybe, possibly, by chance, be bisexual. He'd been head over heels for the pretty Jessica Moore, his girlfriend of three months, when Sam's best friend and Gabriel's little brother, Castiel, had finally introduced them. Sam blamed Castiel - or 'Cas', as Sam's older brother Dean had finally dubbed him after knowing the kid a total of two weeks - for the mess that he'd found himself in. A year of 'Am I or Aren't I?' after he and Jess had broken up - though thankfully remained friends, despite her moving to New York with her family, six months of 'definitely not gay' while he dated Sarah Blake, daughter of the local art gallery's curator, before he'd found himself jammed uncomfortably close to his friend and - sort of - first boyfriend, Andy Gallagher, in the old hippy van Andy had bought cheap from his uncle. That relationship had lasted a few months, experimentation more than anything - kisses and touches and curiosity shared between rounds of Halo or any of the other games they would find themselves absorbed in. They'd broken it off, less 'officially', and more that Andy had started dating Tracey Weber, and he and Sam went back to comfortable gaming like they'd never spent time with their tongues in each other's mouths. But, by then, Sam knew. Even when he moved on and started going out with the alluring and feisty brunette (formerly blonde), that was Ruby Kelves, he was acutely aware that it wasn't just the fairer sex that had him turning his head.

After he had finally broken if off with Ruby - she was a great girl, but Dean was right, she wasn't good for Sam - and watched her go off to date Cas' older sister, Anna, a stream of more girlfriends had followed. There was Madison Mueller, a sweet girl who had always kept Sam in his toes. After Madison came the laidback, smart and sassy Pamela Barnes, who he'd ended up with a few months after he and Madison had broken up before her going away to school. Pam and Sam had a mutual, easy break-up, and she remained a close friend to this day. Then had come the med student Cara Roberts, the hippy chick Sparrow Jennings, and an almost-thing with Cas' cousin Balthazar. In his defence on the last one, everyone had an almost-thing with Balthazar Milton. Anyone who knew him wasn't exactly surprised.

But the point was: Sam had been with a few people. And some of them had been really great. Through his last year of his undergrad he'd found himself in Cas' company - and thereby Gabriel's - more as they'd waded through the last leg of their respective degrees. Sam in legal studies, Cas in English literature. And that was when Sam had finally given in. Gave up. By that time Dean had proved himself to be something of a bisexual himself - or merely Cas-sexual, as Cas was the only guy Sam had ever seen him make big stupid goo-goo eyes over - and stopped being oblivious to the neon signs Cas was setting up, and hooked up with the guy. After dating Anna. And Anna being the one to hold Dean's face in her hands and tell him he was in bed with the wrong Novak.

Dean's response had been, "What, you mean your cousin Rachel? Chick hates me!"

Dean was about as dense as the day was long, sometimes. What he hadn't been dense about, however, was what he and Cas confronted Sam on, three days before their convocation ceremony. They'd all three gone out to dinner, requested a back booth, and then the two of them had boxed Sam in, leaned forward, one on each side of him, and bluntly stated it: He'd been sweet on Gabriel, it had been six years, why the hell hadn't he done something about it? No, Kali, Gabriel's onetime main squeeze, was not an excuse. She and Gabriel had called it quits when Gabriel had gone into his final stretch of med school and Kali had chosen to go back home to India. Nor was 'and what if he isn't exactly into guys either?', as, like Sam and his experimentation with Andy, it was known that Gabriel had once had a casual thing of his own with a friend, the Scottish international student Crowley MacLeod, and there had been a rumour going around for a while about a wild week he and Balthazar had with a few varied friends of the two of them. Castiel had said that the family get-together the following weekend had been a bit of a debacle of the two of them sharing sleazy looks any time Anna, Cas or Rachel brought up some of their friends at the university or college. Not to mention Kali being very open with Pamela - who had passed the story along to Sam and company - about a particularly saucy threesome with Gabriel and her on-again, off-again other Baldur. The long story short was that Gabriel had never really come off as not open to the possibility.

What Sam had been able to say, however, was that he didn't want to jeopardize whatever loose friendship he and Gabriel had. Dean had grumbled, but at a pointed look from Sam, he'd shut right up. Sam had left the discussion concluded with a promise to think about the whole issue...

And six years later, he still hadn't done anything about it. Gabriel had finished med school the year following Sam and Cas' undergrad graduation, and Sam of course had been invited to the celebration at the Novaks'. At which he'd maybe, possibly, just perhaps had one too many drinks, run into Gabriel in the hallway upstairs, and nearly blurted out the entire long involved story of his enduring high school crush, the first of this lean that he'd ever had. But Gabriel's laughter and hands guiding him to Castiel's room to lay down had shut him up, at least to one simple 'love you, man' that Gabriel had probably completely forgotten about.

"Hey, kiddo, you still with me there?"

Sam snapped back to the present, out of the hazy-eyed stare he'd been giving the table top, and looked up at Gabriel across the table. The pediatrician was frowning softly, eyes a little bit touched around the edges with perplexed concern.

Years ago, when Sam had passed the Bar and graduated law school after his year of articling, he'd been handed a job as their hospital's legal advisor. It hadn't been exactly what he'd expected, but he had jumped on it all the same; the pay was good, the hours were good, it was a short subway commute to the hospital from the outer edges of the city limits where he and Dean lived, and? It was Gabriel's hospital. At least he'd have a friend, right? No ulterior motives, none at all. It had been that way for the last three years. Gabriel had been practicing at York General for two years before Sam came to join the hospital's staff, and when he'd heard Sam was coming, he had taken it upon himself to get Sam used to the building, its people, all that; in that, they had become closer friends - they now had a routine. Lunch was taken together every day and so long as neither had to stay late, they rode the subway home together.

Dean said they were basically dating, but without the status. Cas had nodded knowingly.  
Screw them both.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry. I got a bit distracted, trying to remember something I had to do," Sam lied easily, going back to his lunch, finishing off the very last of it. Gabriel rolled his eyes, mouth tugging up into a grin.

"You think you got a little distracted?" he shook his head, closing up the now empty pie container. "Thought I was gonna have to call NASA to bring you back out of orbit."

Sam laughed softly, giving a little head shake of his own in response. "Not today, rest assured." He glanced at his watch, "Your first of the afternoon is soon. I should get back to the grind too. See you at six?"

What Sam failed to notice as he gathered up his trash, was the fond smile Gabriel gave him.

"Yeah. See you at six, Sammy."

 

___

 

The rest of the day had passed in a bit of a lazy blur. Sam had spent some of it in his office, working on some paperwork - sending faxes to various departments of the hospital that had been needing updating, calling patients regarding various complaints and scheduling times for them to meet to go over compensation for their grievances. By the time he clocked out he was more than ready to head to first floor reception for pediatrics and meet up with Gabriel.

They'd shot the shit on the subway ride home, same old, same old. Same old was good, comfortable. They'd parted, Gabriel disembarking first, clapping Sam on the shoulder and wishing him a good night before slipping out of the subway car's automatic doors.

Twenty minutes later, Sam stepped into the apartment he shared with his older brother, shutting and locking the heavy door behind him before slipping out of his suit jacket, setting his case down inside the closet, and moving into the living room. "Hey."

Dean, Sam's older brother by four years, worked at Singer's Garage not far from their building and had for years - since he had been in his senior year of high school. It was good work for Dean, he was good with his hands, good with cars of all types, a hard worker - and Dean loved it.

When Sam spoke up, Dean shut the book he'd been reading - Vonnegut (never say Dean was an unintelligent, uncultured mechanic stereotype) - and sat up from his sprawl on the couch, beaming brightly. "Hey man, how was work?"

"You know, same old thing - sick people with ridiculous complaints, healthy people whining about relatives' doctors, doctors pointing fingers at each other..." he tossed his jacket on the back of the lazyboy, reaching up to loosen his tie.

"Mm," Dean acknowledged with a sage nod. He crossed his arms over his chest as Sam slipped his tie loose and off. "How's Gabe?"

Sam shrugged a shoulder, wrapping the tie in his hands, turning around and moving towards the kitchen under the pretense of searching for supper. "He's good."

Dean, dogging Sam's steps into their kitchen, made a sound partway between a snort and a groan, throwing himself up on the counter. Sam glanced over to where Dean sat, hands braced on the counter's edge, a sour look on his face.

"Dude, what?"

The only response he got was a slow headshake with a complimentary grin and, "Sammy, Sammy, Sammy," muttered at him.

"Dean, what?" Sam tried again, a bit more vinegar in his voice. He knew that tone and that it meant he was in for another well-meaning but annoying lecture from his brother who, until and unless it came to himself or Cas, had the emotional capacity of a spoon.

"How many times do I have to tell you? You and Dr Novak have been dating without the perks for about five years now--"

"--Three--"

"--My point." Dean cut across smugly. "When the hell are you gonna sack up and ask the guy out for a drink?"

"Office relationships are--"

___

"--Generally frowned upon, yes, Gabriel, I am well aware."

If there was one thing Gabriel Novak had not planned on for the evening, it was coming home to his little brother standing stock still in the front hall of his apartment. There had been a brief exchange - 'To what do I owe the B&E, bro?' - before Castiel had launched into an obviously prepared and practiced speech outlining the drawn out and draining courtship that he may or may not be aware he was engaging in with Sam Winchester. This was brand new information. Gabriel got this speech about once a year, and the content never changed.

Was he attracted to Sam? You bet your ass he was. Had been since the kid had gotten a bit sloppy in their hallway at his med school grad celebration six years ago and used Gabriel as a support post. Well... No, that had been when he had admitted to himself he had more than faux-brotherly affection for Cas' BFF. Until then he'd ignored it (oh, what had it been, three years?) for various reasons - he was six years Sam's senior, his big brother was disturbingly protective, he didn't want to mess up the friendship the sasquatch had with Cas by making it awkward (not that, once Sam's big bro and Cas hooked up, it really seemed to hurt their friendship), Sam had a promising career in law waiting for him - all valid reasons. Still valid reasons.

Was Cas still chattering on?

Gabriel held up a hand, leaning against the kitchen counter, a bag of red licorice in his other hand, one fire engine red piece sticking out from between his lips. "Cas, bro, what is the point this time?"

Castiel's big blues flashed with irritation and he pushed a hand through his unruly dark hair - a habit picked up from Sam - before pressing the fingers of both hands together. "The point, Gabriel, is this: Dean and I are both beginning to think this charade is becoming rather tiresome."

"Aww, you and Dean-o talk about me and my big old gay crush on the sasquatch?"

"I don't think the correct term here is 'crush', Gabriel - this has moved far beyond a 'crush'."

"Term scherm," Gabriel replied, waggling a piece of licorice in Cas' face. "And so what if it has? I'm window-shopping, long-term. I can look, but I shouldn't touch."

"Gabriel, please, for once, try to be serious?" Castiel asked, eyes big and pleading.

"Cas, I don't know if you missed it, but I made it through med school and I work at the biggest hospital in the tri-city area. I use up the precious few moments of serious that I have leftover from one every day at the other."

"Gabriel."

Narrowed eyes were on him, and a firm, hard line was all that was left of Cas' lips. Sometimes Gabriel wondered how his kittenish baby bro pulled off being the city's head librarian. It was magical moments like this that provided him the answer to that query. Gabriel narrowed his eyes right back, pushing away from the cupboards, an eyebrow raised in challenge.

"Yeah? What, Castiel?"

"I firmly suggest that you make a move--"

___

"--Or move on," Dean finished, handing Sam a beer. Short, sweet, simple as that. It sounded so deathly simple when put like that. Like it would all go swimmingly regardless of which path Sam chose.

"Dean, come on."

"No. Not this time, don't you 'Dean' me," Dean set his bottle down, spreading his hands wide. "I'm sorry, Sammy, but I really can't stand watching you do this to yourself anymore. You are both grown ass men, you can ask him out for one damn drink. You know he ain't gonna shove you off for that. If he says no, rather stay friends, then so be it."

Sam could already feel the tight knot of tension in his belly at that. Sure, it would be so simple to be let down easy by his on-again, off-again -... what, infatuation? - since high school. It would be like flipping a switch, nothing would change, nope.

Dean could be so dense.

"I know you're thinking I'm a dick, right now..."

Close enough.

"But, you know, you might be surprised. I swear, Sammy, there've been times when I've wondered if I'd be having to read the guy the riot act, the way he looks at you sometimes."

That gave him a pause. Sure, it could be Dean being over-protective but it could also be him exaggerating for Sam's benefit. Or yet, it may be the cold, hard truth of the thing. And that had Sam's head completely fuzzy with curiosity, and confusion.

"Trust me on this one, Sammy. You gotta make a move or move on. You can't keep pining after the guy, it'll be the death of ya," he stood up, clapping Sam on the shoulder. "Now, I'm thinking sausage and mashed potatoes."

___

Sam said his good morning to Dean's boss, Bobby, and his good byes to Dean at Singer's Garage the next morning only feeling a little out of sorts from the previous night's discussion. After they'd started into making supper, Dean had seemed comfortable enough to let the Gabriel issue be. Supper had been the same old thing it had always been, and then Dean had roped Sam into the last two hours of a '1000 Ways to Die' marathon, which had resulted in a lot of cringing, head-shaking and ill-begotten laughter, before they'd turned on the 10 o'clock news, then turned in. Not another word had been said to the tune of Dean's ultimatum, and Sam had been just fine with that.

But the second they'd gotten into Dean's black 1967 Chevy Impala to head to Singer's, where Sam would get off and walk the rest of the way to the subway and then off to work, Dean had piped up.

"Don't think I've forgotten, Sammy, because I haven't," he had said, glancing at Sam meaningfully before turning back to the road. "This torch you're carrying for the guy is gonna burn you alive if you don't deal with it."

Sam had groaned but nodded his assent. "I didn't think I'd get away for long, anyway, so..."

"So nothing, Sammy. I want you to deal with it this week. I invited Cas over for the game on Saturday, and told him to bring Gabriel along so we could make a thing of it. It would be nice, Cas and I were thinking, to not have to spend half the night watching you try to not be an obvious flirt," he smirked over the front bench at Sam, and that was when it had clicked.

"You and Cas are trying to Matchmaker me?" Sam asked, incredulity written all over his face.

"...Maybe?" Dean's sheepish smile had confirmed it beyond a doubt.

Normally, Sam would have ranted at him for a good ten minutes about keeping his nose out of Sam's love life. But they only had five minutes before they got to the garage, the way Dean drove, so it hadn't been worth much more than a huff and glare.

"Don't give me that," Dean warned, a hint of a grin on his face. "You know I'm just looking out for you, Sammy."

And it was true. In his own weird way, Dean was doing nothing but looking out for Sam - and his happiness. It was what Dean had always done - as the older brother he'd taken it upon himself to smother Sam in his protection and, as it turned out, protecting Sam and seeing Sam happy weren't always mutually exclusive.

"I know. Just let me do things at my own pace," Sam asked, giving Dean his so called 'patented puppy eyes' as they pulled into Dean's parking spot behind the garage.  
"We do things at your pace, we're going to be having Sam's Pine-fest for another thirteen years," Dean protested, pulling his key from the Impala's ignition. 

And that was what they had left the discussion at. It was far from an agreement, Sam was very aware of that, he decided while standing on the platform, swirling his latte in its cup, waiting for the next train. Essentially it was a well-meaning demand on Dean's end that Sam just didn't have the energy to fight against that morning or the night before. And, yeah, maybe Dean had a point, maybe he should make a move - in theory, it couldn't hurt, right? Gabriel didn't seem, had never seemed, like the type to get weird even if he didn't return someone's particular affections. But, in that same vein, if Gabriel didn't return his affections, could Sam handle it? He was fine with what they had now, as one-sided as it was. If Gabriel knew, Sam would have to wonder if anything on his end would change. If he would be okay with his unrequited thirteen year crush (infatuation? Love?) out in the open.

___

Gabriel's first appointment of the day had been a sweet little redhead named Faith who had arrived promptly at 8:10am, clinging to her mother's hand, clearly terrified.  
These were the patients that Gabriel lived for. These were the ones that had helped make Gabriel one of the most sought after pediatricians in the tri-city area. No child, absolutely no child, walked away from their first appointment with Doc Gabe without a smile on. Truth be told, he was probably playing an easier game with these kids than his counterparts in the noble profession of dentistry, but, especially when they came in for vaccines and whatever other multitudes of shots they could need, he could have his hands full convincing them they weren't going to bleed out, or die from the pain, or be turned into a big blue beast. But that was Gabriel's specialty. Lulling them into a false sense of security and having them watch one thing while he jabbed them in the arm and sent them on their way, with candy from the massive jar he kept in his office. Half the time they didn't even notice that something 'horrific' had happened until Gabriel help up the empty syringe, grin full wattage and friendly.

Such was the case with little Faith who, once she realised what had happened, let out a little peal of laughter, and swung her arms around Gabriel's neck. "Thank you, Doc Gabe!"

"Think nothing of it, sweetheart," Gabriel said, pulling a huge orange lollipop from his coat pocket and handing it to her. "And now you are good to go! Thank you for being such a good girl today.

Faith's mom, Sarah Michelle, smiled brightly at Gabriel, taking her daughter's hand in one of her own, and Gabriel's paperwork in the other, and led the little girl - mouth clamped around the lollipop - out of the examination room.

Gabriel gathered the parchment paper off the examination table, ripping it and shoving it into the bin, pulling a fresh sheet over the vinyl top. Then he dropped into his chair, checking his watch. 8:25am. Sam would be hustling into the elevator and up to the legal administration offices about now. Castiel's lecture last night was still sitting uneasily with him. Sam was a great guy; tall, handsome, you know, he was every Harlequin romance fan's wet dream. For a lawyer he was built well, clearly Sam was conscious of keeping himself physically healthy and staying in shape, and he had all that long hair that he somehow managed to make look professional never mind its length. Not only all that, but he was smart - intelligent and witty. bit quick to roll his eyes or make a face at whatever issue, or terrible joke, but that just made him all that much more endearing. He had a good sense of humour when you could get it out of him, and a damn big heart, with a lot of love for the people close to him. A bit of a temper, to be sure, but at least he was aware of it. Sam was all open heart, open mind - so not a typical lawyer, really, but he was a damn good lawyer. Sam Winchester: Walking Contradiction; Gabriel had called him that more than a few times.

But... Open heart, open mind: regardless, how would he take Gabriel coming at him, making great big love declarations? Now, if Gabriel was honest, he had questioned the way Sam was around him a few times. A little too friendly, a little too close, what have you. But Sam had never made any kind of move, or laid any kind of proposition out on the table - nothing to give Gabriel evidence, cold hard evidence, to back up the little theory. And as much of an ass as he could be, as he knew he could be, Gabriel was below jumping into Sam's love life if Sam wasn't ready for (or committed to) the idea. Sam was a bright kid with a bright future ahead of him. Gabriel didn't want to go along and jump into the equation just yet, not until Sam was ready.

But, again, Castiel had a point. It wasn't doing anyone any favours the longer he did fancy two steps around the gargantuan issue that was Sam Winchester. Not for himself, not for Sam, and if the exasperation in Castiel's voice had been any indicator, not for Cas or Dean. It was just a hot mess, really.

Well, of course.

Gabriel leaned forward in his chair, standing up and stretching. His next appointment was at 8:30am, and he may as well get to it. It was better to keep busy now than to sit and mull over how he was supposed to woo Sam. Or if he would.

___

Sam normally looked forward to his lunch break. It was time away from paperwork and forcing smiles for patients forcing a case. And it was time with Gabriel. Today, however, he was half-expecting Dean to come barrelling into the cafeteria to stand over him while he ate, waiting for him to make his supposed love confession to Gabriel. Logically, he knew that probably wouldn't be happening, but the possibility existed and that was the freaky point.

But, when he slid into a seat across from Gabriel, who immediately launched into a tirade about one of his patients' mothers, Dean was nowhere to be seen, so Sam felt it safe to declare his paranoid fear simply that. A paranoid fear.

"And I want to outright be like 'Listen lady, if you weren't a beauty queen growing up, fine, but don't live vicariously through your kid'. Strange rash, no shit, she's four, why are you giving her an overall hot body wax - at home?!" Gabriel viciously stabbed his fork into what looked like some kind of pot pie. "Pageant kids. I swear. They get so robbed by their parents, Sammy. I wrote down another prescription for vitamins with the cream on her script. I don't think she was malnourished but it doesn't hurt to have her take vitamins and keep healthy," he paused to chew and swallow, finally looking over at Sam. "Man, if I could I would so have mommy dearest go through all that primping, every day, over and over, so she knows what it’s like to have nonexistent hair ripped off her body," a bright, mischievous grin, and Sam lost track for a second, slowly grinning wider himself while the pasta on his fork slowly unwound back onto the plate.

"I knew you'd get a kick outta that," Gabriel said. "So, how was your morning, Mr. Legal Counsel?"

Sam shrugged one shoulder, grin still lingering. "Oh, you know. Remember Roy Rennie?"

Gabriel smirked, nodding. "Oh yeah. Wasn't he with one who shot himself in the foot?"

Sam nodded. "The one and only. If you can believe it, he called, asking if the hospital would compensate him for the cane he's had to buy to deal with his limp during the recovery process."

"...But wasn't he in here..."

"Six, almost seven months ago? Yeah. He should be well on the way to healed by this point."

Gabriel twisted the cap off his pepsiMAX bottle, snorting. "Not even 'well on the way' - he is healed. Unless he shot himself again..."

Sam raised an eyebrow, stilled in cutting through his chicken breast.

"I know, wouldn't put it past 'im," Gabriel finished, reading Sam's thoughts on the matter loud and clear. "So?"

"I talked to the director--"

"--Ugh, you had to consult Zach on this? Man, Roy Rennie should consider that compensation alone - the mental and emotional turmoil you would've had to go through talking to Director Dick on his behalf."

Sam laughed, he couldn't help it. Gabriel had a valid point. Dealing with Zachariah Adler sometimes was the most unpleasant experience anyone in the hospital could go through. The director was a balding, greying, plump man with piercingly cold blue eyes and a smarmy personality. It astounded Sam sometimes that a guy like Zach Adler was able to become York General's head director.

"Yeah, if only he would go for that. Anyway, it is just a cane. Even if he went all out and bought this ridiculous polished, varnished oak, silver handled thing. So we went along with it and just paid for it...”

"Hold on, back up," Gabriel raised an eyebrow skeptically. "We paid it, I get that - but Roy Rennie bought what is essentially a pimp cane? Has anyone told him that 'Mack Daddy' just isn't the vibe that he gives off?"

Sam snorted a short laugh, nodding. "More like high class redneck, right?"

"That about hits it on the head."

In some ways, lunch was the same as always. They finished up with the regular 'see you at quitting time'. But in other ways, Sam thought as he headed back to his office, it was weird. Strained, maybe? Like they had, at some points, been attempting to force conversation, trying to come up with something, anything, to fill the silences.

Then again... Maybe it was just him.

___

That was awkward.

Gabriel never felt awkward, not the way others did, and even for him that felt a bit off. Maybe because he'd spent half of it trying to figure out where Sam's head was at with dating, period. Was the kid open to it, or was he still too stressed with work to add more to his life?

Even more concerning: Why did Gabriel care? Why wasn’t he just diving in head first? It had worked great with Kali, what was to say it wouldn't go just as well with Sam?   
The logical voice in his head chimed in almost immediately. It wouldn’t go just as well with Sam because Sam wasn't Kali. That was the long and sort of it. He wasn't Kali, and if Gabriel was completely honest with himself, he didn't feel the same way about Sam as he had about Kali. He wasn't the Gabriel he'd been then, when it was about hooking up and whatever came secondary to that. Thing was, Sam was a friend first and Gabriel didn't exactly have a lot of friends, not the way he had Sam. With Sam there were more emotions tied into this, more considerations, than just hooking up.

That was more than likely what had made this so awkward. He was being considerate.

This may end up being a bit more difficult than previously anticipated.

___

Sam didn't wait to say hello to Dean when he walked into the living room that evening. He simply marched in, dropped his briefcase on the armchair, spread his arms wide and announced, "I can't do this."

Well. That at least seemed to take Dean by surprise. If there was anything, as far as Dean was concerned, that Sam could do, it was the thing he was most likely currently announcing he could not do, and that was to tell Gabriel to get his midget ass in Sam's bed. f course, Dean had the kind of Intel that Sam didn't - Cas. Or more, he knew the kind of Intel that Sam had never thought (or never dared) to ask Cas himself: How Gabriel actually felt about Sam. This at first had had Dean all kinds of overprotective of his baby brother.

But, for Dean, continuing to watch Sam pine over Gabriel - and once he knew it - Gabriel pine over Sam, was painful. Gabe, for one, was usually more forward. He was very obviously being more reserved about this than, well, anything, so far as Dean had known him. Dean was pretty sure that Gabriel was finally having respect for people's personal space at the exact wrong moment. Sam's issue with relationships wasn't holding them down - he had always been great at that, the break-ups were always mutual. Hell, Sam was still bestest of best friends with the bulk of his exes: Jess, Madison, Sarah, Pam, Andy - they all still regularly called Sam up and out for drinks, coffee, or a few hours of Call of Duty (in Andy's case) to catch up and blow off steam. No, the issue wasn't holding the relationship down - Sam's issue was approaching the relationship first, period, at all. And this was why Dean was mildly infuriated that Gabriel was choosing now of all times to hang back and be respectful.

And you would think, knowing Sam as long as Gabriel did, he would have seen this. Jess, maybe not, she'd been before his time. But the personable blonde had, from the way Cas told it, situated herself around Sam until he actually opened up and chatted with her. Sarah Blake, Sam's first girlfriend after Jess, had been the only one to really receive Sam making the first move - though he'd bungled and bumbled his way through it. Ruby - Dean's least favourite of Sam's exes - had literally dropped herself in Sam's lap before he'd done anything about the attraction. Madison had invited him over for coffee, and conveniently left her laundry out in the open - and then proceeded to fold it while asking Sam if he'd like to go to a movie that Friday and to a local concert the next Thursday. Over and over again, the other person was the one to approach Sam. Attracted as his brother may be to whomever, he was always slow to make a move.

Gabriel, on the other hand, had never been that way. Not in Dean's knowledge and not from what Cas had relayed to Dean over the years. It would have been perfect. Gabriel would end up tossing himself in Sam's lap, and Sam would give up the pining and take the gift that had been given to his willing and wanting arms.

Unless, of course, Gabriel decided to hang back. Which he had done. Which had Dean annoyed as hell. Because Cas insisted they not interfere too much, so telling either of them straight up that the other wanted to jump their bones in the baddest way was out of the question. It had sort of been why Dean was hoping that giving Sam an ultimatum - and Cas doing the same to Gabe - would set the wheels in motion and either Sam would have bumbled his way through admitting his smouldering gay love for Gabriel like he had with Sarah Blake, or Gabriel would cast off the reigns, and (though the thought made Dean dry heave) take Sam into a janitor's closet and showed him just how returned that smouldering gay love was.

But this wasn't a teen movie, apparently.

And for once that had Dean beyond annoyed. He would have been thrilled for a teen movie plot to take up residence in their lives.

"So..." Dean started, taking in Sam's vaguely hostile stance. "What, uh... What can't ya do? Exactly? Because you're sort of leaving the door wide open to speculation here, Sammy."

Sam rolled his eyes, hands moving to rest on his hips. Standing there with his dress shirt sleeves rolled up and his tie loosened, Sam really looked like the picture of domestic sitcom life. Dean vaguely considered the reaction Gabriel would have to having Sam come home every day looking like that, like some kind of movie star playing the role of beat-down single dad. And then he vaguely considered throwing up in his mouth.

"You know what, Dean. This 'make a move or move on' thing of yours," One hand came up, pushing back through Sam's shaggy hair as he let out a small sigh of resignation. "I think, you know, you're seeing something that just isn't there. Gabriel is a friendly guy. maybe you're mistaking the way he is with me for something it isn't. He's probably treating me no different than anyone else. You saw something that wasn't there. I saw something that wasn't there. It's just Gabriel being Gabriel."

Dean lurched up and out of his seat at that, pointing a finger at Sam. "Oh no. No, no, Sammy. It's there. It is definitely there," he turned around, plucking up his beer bottle from the small table beside the couch. "You two have, uh," he glanced up at Sam, who had both eyebrows up in a questioning expression. "Sammy, don't make me tell you that you and Gabriel have a spark or something equally girly? Please?"

Sam rolled his eyes, shaking his head and heading down the hall towards his room. Dean followed after him, curious as to whether or not Sam would elaborate on the eye rolling. "Sammy, come on, what is the point of this game you're playing anyway? You gotta sack up, man."

Sam poked his head around the corner of his bedroom door, fixing Dean with a level stare. "Because you think there’s a spark there? Dean, to be honest, that sounds like something you pulled out of your ass to try and get me to get a move on this."

Dean had the presence of mind to understand that was a bit of an insult, but brushed it off. "Sorry, man. Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. You need to see that for yourself. I'm just telling ya, Sammy. You really think I would waste my breath trying to get you to hook up with the guy if I didn't think it..." Dean trailed off, bringing the beer bottle to his lips, leaving it at that. He'd had this turn into enough of a chick flick moment already, he wasn't going to start waxing poetic about how he thought that Gabriel would be good for Sam and Sam would be good for Gabriel and they could go on to rent a condo and have a beautiful little life, and Dean and Cas would come by every Thursday night for dinner and the game (whatever game that may be) and Sam would be happy. At the end of the day, that was Dean's biggest interest - that his baby brother be happy. 

___

"Cas, I'm going to hang up the phone," Gabriel said calmly, pulling that same bag of licorice from the cupboard as he had the night before. "If you don't let me get a word in edgewise here."

An annoyed huff of air came down the line, but Castiel didn't interrupt again. It was just as well. This phone call wasn't really to Gabriel's liking at all. If he'd been smart, he wouldn't have answered the phone at all when it had started to ring, but he'd been halfway out of his work shirt and intent on the kitchen and not really expecting much to come of it. Or to have 'So! did you finally admit your feelings to Sam?' blurted at him in place of a greeting. Sometimes Gabriel really questioned how it was that Castiel had become the city's head librarian, when his social cues were so lacking.

"Better," Gabriel said in a sing song tone. He'd already explained to Cas the awkward festival that he'd dubbed his lunch break today, which had led to Castiel lecturing him on not giving up too quickly. Which, well, Gabriel hadn't been entertaining as a legitimate option yet, but Jesus. "Anyway. I just don't think there is actually anything there. The harder I push the more awkward Sammy-boy is gonna get. Maybe. And he's awkward enough already. 'Course, he doesn't have anything on you in that department, baby brother."

"Very funny, Gabriel," Castiel ground out. Gabriel could perfectly picture the exasperated look on his face. "But I truly don't think you should give up so soon. Something like this, for you to back down so soon, it isn't your style exactly, is it?"

"Cas?"

"Yes?"

"Be honest, did you just do air quotes when you said 'style'?"

The extended silence on the other line confirmed that for him. "Well, anyway, sport, if it is so dire that you know, no, I don't intend to give up so soon. This is a competition or something now - I won't back down until Sam either breaks or tells me to back off."

"Gabriel, that sounds... A bit much, perhaps."

"You think going all swimfan on him would be a bad thing?" Gabriel asked, opening the fridge and poking around inside. In all honesty, there was no way in hell he would attempt such a thing with Sam. He still wanted the kid to want to hang around with him when this was over, whether it went good or bad on the cuddly crap. It seemed likely that stalking him to the point of swimfanism would damn him in that regard.

"Possibly," Cas intoned in that gravelly voice of his. "Try to be respectful about it, all right?"

"You have my word I will be as respectful as possible... for me."

"Sam's going to text me asking if you're ill in the next two days, I know it."

"Is this a bet? Don't let your mouth make bets your wallet can't back up, little brother. In two days, Sam Winchester will be canoodling with me on my couch."

"Gabriel, you aren't the 'canoodling' type, and you should take your own advice, brother." There was a loud chime in the background, the text tone on Castiel's phone. Gabriel suspected that would be Dean, checking to see if he could call Cas to chat, or maybe they would be trading ridiculous coupley texts that Gabriel was amused by, horrified by and pleased by all at once. Dean Winchester had never struck Gabriel as a hopeless romantic. But Gabriel had never planned for the power of his baby brother on that gruff, surly mechanic. Of course, thinking about that was leading him to think about the effects Dean Winchester had on Castiel in other ways, and that was where Gabriel needed to get off that thought train.

"How would you know? Maybe I am the canoodling type. You've never dated me, now have you?" he glanced at the clock on the microwave, straightening up and closing the fridge with the heel of his foot, a container of left over beef stroganoff in his hand. "But it's about getting time for you and Romeo to have your evening 'I love you', 'I love you more' battle, isn't it? I should probably free you up for that."

After a few seconds of indignant sounds, Castiel said his goodbye and hung up. Gabriel tossed the cordless phone down on the countertop, scooping the stroganoff onto a plate and putting it in the microwave to heat. While he watched the plate spin slowly in the microwave, he thought about what he'd said to Cas. About being the 'canoodling type'. And how, well, he wasn't so sure he couldn't be that type if it came down to it. In the past? Definitely not. He just couldn't see himself curling up on the couch for a movie or something with Kali. And Crowley was a more talk and bedroom action kind of guy, opposed to the sit down and cuddle kind of guy. And honestly? Gabriel hadn't given the notion two thoughts in his long dating career.

It had to be something about Sam being a big puppy that was making Gabriel actually consider whether he wouldn't mind coming home to cuddle up on the couch and just relax and be close to another person and comfortable, and have that be the only expectation of him. To just be there and close. Lord help him, but Gabriel couldn't help finding the idea of that with Sam like a siren song. In his imagination, it was perfect and wonderful and relaxing, so relaxing; so everything he didn't know he wanted until he was sitting in a chair at his kitchen table watching the stroganoff from two nights before spin in the orange light of the microwave.

Exactly what was it that the Winchesters did to have these effects in the people they were with? Or, amending that, the people who would like to be with them?


	2. Chapter 2

If either Sam or Gabriel had thought the first day of their time together after Dean and Cas had performed their respective interventions was awkward, neither of them had any idea what the rest of the week would bring them. Nothing short of high school freshman brand awkward; untimely laughter when the other was speaking and what they were saying wasn't particularly funny, lingering touches that lingered in the most unflattering way, interrupting each other constantly after silences that felt as though they were dragging on forever but in all honestly had only lasted five seconds or less - in short it was really a hot mess. And Gabriel was beginning to unravel. Sam had already had a short breakdown in the apartment on Thursday night at Dean, ranting, gestulating, voice rising octaves in his stress. The product of Dean and Castiel's genius plan to get them together was starting to turn into the crashing together of two immovable forces, both intent on finding out the other's intentions and really only succeeding in making the other hide their intentions all the more.

"I have a few concerns about how Saturday will go," Castiel said, handing Dean his coffee - black - as they walked to a small corner table in the coffee shop nearby the garage Dean worked at. "I trust you have a sharp enough knife to cut the sexual tension that is going to be clogging up that room when we all crowd in together? And I don't mean from us, so don't even try to spin this into some sort of ploy to charm me, Dean."  
Dean looked a little trodden on for a moment has he pulled back his chair and dropped into it. "Well, I think I have a welding torch somewhere in the apartment. But I know what you mean. I haven't seen Sam this worked up in a long time. He's all concerned that the way Gabriel is acting is because he is coming on too strong and he's weirding him out, but he says now that he's started he can't stop - and then he started to over share about how he wants to take Gabriel into his office and just," Dean made a show of shuddering dramatically. "I know he's your brother and all, Cas, but I really could do without thinking about Sam bending him over his desk and - Ack, there it goes again." He pressed a hand over his eyes as though attempting to will away the mental image with pressure to his eyelids.

Castiel blinked slowly, taking his seat. "I guess I'm the lucky one in this situation. I haven't spent enough time speaking with Gabriel for him to share any fantasies. Recently, anyway. But he actually seems genuinely concerned that Sam is going to assume that he is, what was the term... Swimfanning him?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah, swimfanning. It's this movie about his swimmer who gets stalked by some crazy chick."

Castiel frowned. "I see. Well, Gabriel isn't stalking Sam, so I am not sure why exactly he is making this comparison, but either way," he took a sip of his coffee, looking out the front window of the shop, lost in thought. "I am beginning to wonder if maybe we shouldn't just tell them that we know they are each in love with the other."

Dean lowered his coffee, raising both eyebrows at Cas across the table. "But weren't you the one who said it was better to let them get it through their thick skulls themselves? So that they wouldn't be all bitter towards us for meddling?"

A nod, and Cas turned his blue eyes back to Dean's face, smiling grimly. "Yes, but the longer this goes on, the more concerned I become that they will alienate each other, and I just can't deal with the moping that they would both do, Dean. Gabriel becomes snappish and easily annoyed when he is displeased with himself, and I would rather not have my head bitten off."

That was a point that Dean could concede. Sam tended to mope in the most stellar of fashions; emo rock and long silent periods and Dean wouldn't put it past the kid to lie awake in bed at night staring at the ceiling and blaming himself for whatever had happened to cause him to mope in the first place. "So, we just put the plan to rest and straight tell them to get their shit together on Saturday?"

"Oh, oh, is this about Sam and Gabriel?"

Suddenly a third chair was spun to join theirs at the small table, and a lanky woman wearing a black cropped AC/DC shirt and tight navy jeans dropped into it, backwards, one hand pushing her sunglasses up into her short wavy black hair before both arms crossed over the back of the chair. Sam's ex, Pamela Barnes. 

"How's it going, you two? Sam hasn't been answering my texts, give me all the juicy gossip, come on now."

Of all of Sam's exes, Pam had to be one of Dean's favourites. It was basically her and Jess, and Andy a close second, who Dean considered his own friends. Pamela was just his kind of chick. Admittedly, they had fooled around a bit themselves, but what was some swapped spit between friends, right? Besides, Pam had been one of the most vocal about the advent of Dean and Castiel's relationship. She didn't have the best history with Cas, but she'd warmed to him over time, possibly for Dean's sake.

The fact that Pam was asking after Sam and Gabriel's on-going soap opera meant two things. One, Sam must have vented to her at one point in the past week. Two, it was a nice coincidence that Pam had dropped in tableside now, because her input would be great in the long run.

Pam had been the only one of Sam's girlfriends to catch on to the torch he was carrying for Gabriel. And she had not once held it against him, only pushed him towards admitting it already, because it couldn't hurt anything. In the years since she and Sam had broken things off she had regularly made check-ins on Sam's Pine-Fest, asking him why he wasn't 'rigorously tapping that ass' already every time that she got a check-up. If anyone should be pulled in on Dean and Cas' little scheme before they pulled the plug and declared their attempts fruitless, it was Pamela Barnes.

"We're well, if you don't count residual stress from Sam and Gabriel fumbling their potential relationship," Castiel answered. "It's good to see you, Pamela."

"Cas, baby," Pam reached over, dancing her fingers through Castiel's unruly dark hair. "I always tell you to call me Pam, don't I?" she glanced between the two of them. "I'm glad to hear that you two are well. Sam texted me a few days ago, said he was finally going to make his move with Gabriel," she raised a dark eyebrow, smirking a bit. "I take it that, in true Sam fashion, he is bumbling his way through this?"

"Oh yeah," Dean said, nodding broadly, lifting his coffee to take a sip. "You know how he is."

"Oh, don't I ever," Pam answered, laughter in her tones. "What I don't understand," she continued, looking to Cas. "Is why Gabriel hasn't caught on and jumped Sam on the examining table yet."

"Gross," Dean put in cheerily.

"Well, that's the real issue, isn't it?" Cas said, tapping his fingers on the table top while he put the pieces together. "Normally Gabriel would be all over this opportunity. But I think the fact that Sam is, for once, being rather forward about things, has thrown him for a loop, and he isn't sure how to proceed. We were planning to get together all four tomorrow evening and Dean and I both hoped that they would have gotten themselves together by this point so we could celebrate the end to the sexual tension. But as you've probably gathered, unless they both come home punch drunk on love tonight..."

Pam nodded sagely. “I can see your predicament, gentlemen, and I propose you invite me over tomorrow too.”

Dean and Cas both looked up at that, raising eyebrows at Pam, whose expression said nothing of this suggestion being a joke. 

"You should maybe invite Andy too. And maybe, ah Rachel and Balthazar? If there's anyone from your side of the family who can knock some sense into Gabriel, Cas, it's Balthazar. And Rachel's pushy enough to lecture him about it. Andy and I will be there for Sam's moral support. And maybe Andy will get stupid enough to just blurt out enough to have Sam running to get Gabriel alone and admit it himself before he hears it in stoner-ese."

Castiel had to admit, it was a sound plan. And the more people there, the less chance there was that he and Dean would be crushed under the tension of the other two. And there was a better chance, with a few drinks in them, and their respective cheering sections, that they would finally get on with it and put an end to this ridiculous back and forth game they were playing.

It was crazy.

But was it just crazy enough to work?

Glancing across the table at Dean confirmed that the older Winchester was seriously considering what Pam had said. For her part, Pam was smirking broadly, swirling her latte in a slow circle in one hand. "Go ahead, gents. Tell me I'm a genius."

Dean cracked a grin, eyes focusing again, flicking from Pam to Cas. Cas gave a small nod, and Dean turned back to Pam. "You're crazy, is what you are, Pam."

"Crazy like a fox," Pam replied, drawing up out of her chair. "So. See you both and the unattached-for-now lovebirds tomorrow evening, then?"

Cas nodded. "6pm, Sam and Dean's. Don't forget Andy."

"Or beer, I'm not providing for all you freeloaders," Dean cut in.

Pam laughed as she walked towards the shop door, waggling her fingers over her shoulder at them as she went.

"It appears we have a Plan B," pulling out his phone to text his cousin Balthazar, Castiel barely restrained himself from sighing in relief. This solved their problem of how to tell both Sam and Gabriel that they were both sweet on each other. To be honest, the idea of announcing to the full room tomorrow afternoon, that they were both pining after the other and should just drop the charade and make merry already hadn't been overly appealing to Castiel. He had a... thing about emotions, these lovey-dovey emotions, when it wasn't regarding Dean. He cared for them, but he didn't have much of a desire or yearning to revel in those of others, not when they were being admitted abrupt. The awkward few moments when Sam and Gabriel tried to feel the other out before just accepting that neither Dean nor Castiel was lying about their mutual attraction would have been a bit much for Castiel to process with much care. That it would happen was fantastic to him, Gabriel deserved Sam, Sam deserved Gabriel. He just didn't rightly feel like he wanted to witness the act.

But if Pam and Andy were needling Sam, and Balthazar was prodding Gabriel, challenging him to 'sack up', while Rachel berated him for being childish and pathetic about the entire affair, there was a much greater chance that, with the added lubricant of beer, Gabriel and Sam would have their awkward 'do you, do you really?' moment in private, or relative private.

"So it seems," Dean grinned, reaching over and covering the display of Cas' phone with one hand. "But, now that we have a plan B, do you think we could maybe move on to ordering food? Trust me, I'd like to stay here with you all day and plot and plan until the cows come home, but, uh, Bobby'll have my head if I'm late getting back from break today. We've been stupid busy."

The response he got was a soft smile and a nod. "I forgot, with everything, about eating." He held up his half empty coffee. "Coffee and..." glancing out the shop window, he spotted the fast food joint he was looking for. "White Castle?"

Dean barely suppressed a groan, but it didn't wipe the grin from Castiel's face. "I know it isn't your favourite, but, for me?"

"For you," Dean conceded. "I will eat White Castle's burgers."

They stood, Cas reaching over to thread his fingers through Dean's, a text quietly chiming its way into Castiel's inbox.

Cassy,  
An invitation to meddle with Gabey finally getting that moose to lay him? Consider both Rachel and I there with bells on, darling  
-B

___

"Wait, hold on," Sam raised a hand, willing Dean to slow down. "I thought you said it was just Gabe and Cas tonight?"

Dean grinned sheepishly, shrugging one shoulder. "I did, yes, but we ran into Pam the other day and haven't seen her for a while so I figured what the hell, and then of course she figured you might wanna see Andy so she asked to bring him, and that was fine by Cas and I and I figured you'd be down. And Cas said they haven't seen Balthazar and Rach for a while, so we just sort of..." he shrugged his shoulder again, a little more relaxed now after blurting that out. "Figure it could be a little reunion, right?"  
Sam's eyes narrowed, lips pursing as he looked at Dean, as though he was trying to see into his brother's head, see if his brother was planning anything. After a moment he loosened up, sighing softly. "Nah, you're right. It will be good. And at least with other people here I might not make a total ass of myself with Gabe."

Dean pressed his own lips together, going back to the pizza order screen on Sam's laptop, choosing not to comment on that. "If I have to get a veggie pizza, I'm getting a meat lovers too." Sam seemed to take that with little surprise, going back to undoing the buttons on his dress shirt. It was just a bit past 4:30, and there was roughly an hour left for him to clean up from work. This particular Saturday he had worked a shift from 10am to 4pm, and Dean had offered to come pick him up instead of leaving him to ride the subway, under the pretense of needing him to help finish setting up to have others over. It wasn't purely to give Sam time to clean himself up and unwind before people showed up and he and Cas put Plan B into operation. At least, if Sam had guessed it, that was what Dean would have said.

From what Cas had said, Gabriel was off today, but he worked a noon to 6pm shift the next day. Which meant that Cas had been planning to drag his older brother over for some family time with Balthazar and Rachel before they went around to the Winchesters'. Last Dean had heard from Cas, they had succeeded in getting Balthazar into Gabriel's apartment, and their over-friendly cousin was lavaciously attempting to get Gabriel out of bed. Rachel had texted him not all that long ago - two hours or so - stating that after a lot of grumbling about having his only day to sleep in interrupted, Gabriel had gotten his ass up at threats of Balthazar setting Sam up with Lucifer Novak - the second oldest of Castiel and Gabriel's brothers, and the last possible person on the planet any of them would actually like to see Sam get together with; most of all Sam himself.

The food was all ready to be set out. Meaning that the bags of chips that they had picked up were sitting next to large plastic bowls, waiting to be opened and dumped in and carried to the living room. There was a bag of popcorn waiting to be popped by the microwave, and another plastic bowl beside that. The fridge was stocked with both sodas and beer. The only thing that they were really missing was the pizza, and that was a button click away from being ordered. The apartment was clean - the benefit of the two of them basically working sun up to sun down every day of the week - which meant they were the only things in the apartment not ready. And normally Dean wouldn't care, but this was Plan B, this was the launching of the good ship Sam&Gabriel, and he wanted everything to be flawless so that absolutely nothing would go wrong. The sooner those two got their act together, the better for everyone.

"Sammy!" he barked, grinning a little maniacally at his younger brother who had succeeded in getting as far as undoing his dress shirt and pulling it loose of his waistband before he'd gotten distracted reading the front page of the newspaper. Sam raised an eyebrow, slowly lowering the paper to the kitchen table again. "Shouldn't you go get in the shower? You stink of hospital."

Sam's nose crinkled up as he sniffed his shoulder, brows knitting together. "I do?"  
"Oh yeah," Dean answered, nodding. "You're probably just used to it from being there all the time."

Shrugging one shoulder, Sam turned, heading down the hall towards their bathroom to shower and get dressed to entertain company. Dean waited long enough to hear the water turn on in the bathroom, and then flipped open his phone, hitting the speed dial for Cas and putting it to his ear.

___

"Excuse me for just a minute."

Castiel stood up from the table he, his brother and two cousins were sitting at in Starbucks, slipping to stand just outside the store's door, pressing the button to accept Dean's call and raising it to his ear. "Hello, Dean."

"Hey, Cas."

The warmth that bloomed in his chest when Dean's voice rumbled down the line was a little embarrassing, just a little, Cas would admit. It was all those wibbly, kitten-soft emotions that he'd read about in the great literature for years, and yet never felt himself, so written off as a bunch of psycho romantic dribble. Until he found it himself in a gruff freckled mechanic. And he found himself caring less and less as the years went by. It still made the hint of a flush cling to the tips of his ears, but there was no shame in being in love, and certainly not with Dean Winchester, and so he would smile and bear it.

"How are things going for you?"

"Pretty decent," Dean answered. "Picked Sam up and ordered him into the shower, food's ready, pizza's ready to be ordered - yes, I got the veggie for Pam and Sammy said he'd eat it too - so everything on our end is good to go. How about you?"

Cas turned, looking into the Starbucks through the window emblazoned with ads for their newest drink, peering at the table where Gabriel, Balthazar and Rachel were sitting. Rachel was seemingly deep into an explanation of something, and Balthazar was drinking his coffee, nodding and gesturing helpfully every few minutes as Rachel spoke. For his part, Gabriel had the good sense to look at least a little interested. Cas didn't even have to be in the shop to know that Rachel was probably giving him the same lecture she'd already tried out three different ways that day: the emotional pros and cons of just throwing himself into Sam Winchester's flight path, and berating Gabriel for leading him along if he didn't intend to do anything about it. Gabriel should really have tuned her out by this point and probably had.

"Well, Balthazar and Rachel are managing to patently charm Gabriel into sweeping Sam off his feet tonight," he allowed, corner of his mouth twitching upward in a smile. Dean groaned on the other end of the line.

"Just make sure they don't have him spooked right the hell out," he asked. "Remember that time Rachel gave me a lecture? I was afraid that every time I went near you for a week she might jump out and started psychoanalyzing me again." There was a drumming sound, like Dean's fingers on the counter top. "Do you think this is going to work?"

Castiel looked back at Gabriel, sizing him up. It was true that the last week seemed to have worn on him in ways Gabriel simply didn't let things wear on him. Cas would like to think this meant Gabriel was near to his breaking point, and with any luck his breaking point would manifest itself in kissing the daylights out of Sam, or something equally cliché and dramatic. In the very least, he could hope for that. At least something happening that was enough for the plan to work would be good for him. Balthazar and Rachel were, maybe, helping a bit. Balthazar and Gabriel were a lot alike, though their sandy haired cousin was a bit more of a sexual creature than, well, anyone in the family. Outwardly. But because he was so much like Gabriel, he knew how to talk to him to get through to him. A lot of it had been good natured joking about Gabriel actually being in love, and if it had happened he'd be a moron not to pursue it. There had also been ribbing about Gabriel settling down, but at least settling down with 'dick that you could never get sick of', which had been the point when Rachel had emphatically shoved Balthazar out of the way and fixed Gabriel with a look that said she agreed, but wouldn't be so vocal about it.

"I don't think it will make things worse in any case," Castiel began honestly. "But I am still not sure how successful this plan is going to be, Dean. They are both predictable and unpredictable. It may do nothing at all."

"That's what I was thinking too," Dean said, and Cas could almost see him rubbing a hand over his eyes in mild annoyance. "Well, the least we can do is try and hope that it amounts to something, right? In the very least, it'll be nice to have people together for a little while."

"Mm," Castiel intoned, nodding, turning back to look out at the street. "Well, we'll be by within the next hour and a bit, so I will see you then?"

"You bet," Dean answered, tone a touch brightened since he'd last spoken. "Love ya."

"I love you, too," Cas answered, ending the call with a smile. 

When he got back to the table he wasn't exactly surprised to see that Rachel had finally changed tactics. Rachel was the youngest of the extended family, after him, but she was a spitfire, which maybe one could guess from looking at her, but perhaps not. Rachel was tall, almost Castiel's height (just shy of Dean's six feet and change), with long straight honey blonde hair that she always wore brushed back from her face in some way, and eyes that were the same mossy green as Dean's. Suffice to say that she was quite a looker. But she had a strong personality behind the looks, and it was probably that more than anything that Cas thought as her best quality. She didn't allow others to walk all over her, but likewise she stuck up for others so that they wouldn't receive that sort of treatment. At times it was unneeded or unappreciated, but for the majority of the time, she was a good friend to have. And she was family, so that counted for something.

But Rachel's input on the whole Gabriel and Sam issue was maybe invaluable. She was persistent, like a bulldog, and though her first tactic had been to berate Gabriel for letting things go on for years and years, by the time Castiel took his seat again, she'd moved on to actual conversation with Gabriel where he didn't look like he'd rather stab himself in the hand than continue to sit there and listen to her talk.

"You aren't getting any younger, Gabriel, is all I am saying, you know? And neither is Sam. But I know that you've had a thing for him for years," she was saying as she took the lid from her coffee cup to put the paper bag from the cookie she'd bought inside it, effectively compacting her trash. 

"Years." Balthazar cut in. "Years in which you have done nothing but vaguely flirt with him," he reached over, gripping Gabriel's shoulder. "My friend, do you wonder if perhaps the reason you haven't been able to hold down a girlfriend is because you are destined to make Sam Winchester your blushing bride?"

Gabriel cracked a grin at that. "Sam, a blushing bride? Are we thinking lace trim and a bodice, and, oh! A really high garter and champagne that never ends?" The two of them grinned at Rachel, who was unsuccessfully trying to hide her smile, shaking her head at the table. "I've always wanted one of those high-class but borderline raunchy weddings."

"You've always wanted a wedding?" Castiel interjected, "This is news to me."

Gabriel took the mature route of making a face at his younger brother across the table. "Listen, you guys - I appreciate all the input today, I really do. We'll see what comes of tonight, I guess, but I think you all have points," he tossed a cheeky grin Rachel's way. "Even you, Rach, except I think I fell asleep a few times during your speeches, so do you think you could-"

He broke off with a laugh, raising an arm to fend off Rachel's pinching fingers. Castiel caught Balthazar's eye and they exchanged a secret smile of their own. Gabriel had said 'We'll see what comes of tonight', and sure, it wasn't exactly confirmation that he was going to finally take off his collar and step up to Sam like he should have done long before, but it was something. Gabriel wasn't saying he intended to hang back any longer. Or hadn't said it. 

And that was a sign of changing things, wasn't it?

___

Sam was buzzed. Just a little bit. Enough to know that he was buzzed, but not enough to lose that sense of awareness. Which was a good thing, because the way Pam was eying him, he wasn't sure he wanted to be any more inebriated. He knew that look. That look said that she was waiting for him to get to the point where she could easily convince him into anything. And considering who else was in the apartment, and what Pam knew, Sam wasn't sure he wanted her to be able to convince him into anything. Like doing his Wahlberg impression to seduce Gabriel. Something told him it may have the exact reverse effect.

"Sam, man," Andy Gallagher dropped onto the couch next to Sam, clearly tipsy himself, resting his chin on Sam's shoulder. "You look tense, dude." He shoved the beer bottle in his hand into Sam's, smiling broadly. "You need more. We didn't go and wake Ash up in the middle of his mid-shift nap to get this beer just for it to go to waste. Come on," he straightened, slapping a hand down on Sam's knee. "Tell me all about your man problems, I can--"

"Andy Gallagher will you please keep your voice down?"

Sam looked up to see Cas and Gabriel's cousin Rachel standing over them, one eyebrow raised questioningly.

"Oh, right, right!" Andy said, nodding. "This is a delicate operation," he turned back to Sam, quirking an eyebrow. "Man, I don't know why you are being so shy about it, dude clearly wants in your pants."

"Is there anyone in the apartment right now who isn't conspiring to set Gabriel up with me?" Sam asked, a bit deadpan. Pam and Andy, of course, were in on it, he'd been able to tell that from the second they had walked in, winked at him, and Pam had announced 'Grumpy's getting laid tonight'. Dean and Cas, of course, were the instigators in this little operation. Rachel's reaction just now had tossed any hope for him that she wasn't in on it out the window. And one glance at Balthazar, while not enough to make him sure, wasn't even needed. If everyone else was in on it, Balthazar was in there like a dirty shirt. So really, the only person who wasn't aware of the little operation was Gabriel.

Gabriel was in the kitchen with Dean, Cas and Balthazar right now, listening while Balthazar regaled them with a tale about a night of 'mindlessness and madness' that he'd been involved in recently. From what Sam could see through the living room to kitchen doorway, Cas was shaking his head, Dean looked a bit dumbstruck, and Gabriel was laughing, clapping his cousin on the shoulder, probably congratulating him. Balthazar would always be that way, the loveable hedonist. And his loveable hedonist exploit retellings were keeping Gabriel from overhearing anything that was going on in the living room.

Which was definitely a good thing, because it was then that Rachel dropped into the seat on Sam's other side, putting her soda can down on the coffee table, and putting a hand on his shoulder. "You need another beer, or you need--"

"--To unclench," Pam jumped in, moving around to perch on the edge of the coffee table in front of Sam, grinning wide. "Or maybe..." she glanced into the kitchen, the corners of her mouth pulling up in a smirk. When she turned back around, she caught Rachel's eyes, and Sam's heart jumped into his throat. Rachel was normally fairly reserved, well-behaved; she didn't meddle unless she absolutely needed to. He was sure she was here now more to feel out if she did need to meddle than to actually meddle, but Pam had a certain effect on people. A certain effect where, as Andy let out a short bark of laughter, catching on, Rachel got to her feet, walking into the kitchen and clearing her throat.

"If you guys are done discussing the varied ways in which Balthazar narrowly escaped getting syphilis this month, Pam and I were thinking maybe we could all..."

Aha! Aha. She hadn't thought far enough to get together an excuse before she had gone in there. Now she was stuck and she would have to back down and whatever it was that Pam had been attempting to get across would fail.

"We could all chill out in here, maybe throw on some crap movie before we head out - Gabriel, you gotta work tomorrow, dontcha? Let's all spend some time together before Sam gets ornery and kicks us out for being drunken louts."

Dammit Andy.

If there was one thing Sam didn't want, it was an audience to his inability to not flirt with Gabriel the way he was now. If Gabriel was in the other room, Sam was fine to sit his buzzed ass on the couch and talk to Pam and Andy and Rachel and not worry about the fact that Gabriel looked really good right now, and everyone was expecting him to do something.

"Yeah, actually, that sounds good," Dean agreed, heading into the living room. Cas looked suitably relieved, until he caught Sam's eyes. Then he was mouthing 'For your own good', and settling down on the other couch next to Dean. 

"Oh, hey, Gabe man, you sit," Andy said, standing a dropping into one of the chairs instead, leaving his seat next to Sam open and free for Gabriel to take. "I've been on my ass all night, you relax, dude, kick back." For her part, Rachel scooted into the other chair next to Andy's, legs curling up underneath her, and Pam took her spot on Sam's other side, a safe distance away, but an imposing, forceful presence nonetheless. Gabriel didn't seem to think twice about it, taking the seat beside Sam and thanking Andy.

"Hey, kiddo," he grinned brightly up at Sam. "I haven't gotten much of a chance to talk to you tonight, sorry about that." he bumped his leg against Sam's, taking a sip from his beer. "So, how was work today? Anything new to--"

"--No work talk!"

The entire room went quiet, everyone looking over to Dean and Cas, who were both staring intently at Sam and Gabriel, though Cas at least had the presence of mind to look away and flush a touch around the ears. Dean, not so much. He lost some of the intensity of his stare, but he didn't stop staring.

"No work talk," he repeated gruffly.

"Uh..." Gabriel said, looking up at Sam, his eyes clearly saying 'They've lost it. Our brothers have finally gone up the creek without their paddles, look at them doing that scary talking in unison couple thing.'

"Yeah," Rachel cut in helpfully. She waved a hand at Sam and Gabriel. "We're all here to unwind, don't you to start talking about work," she jerked her thumb at Cas. "Or this one will start trying to recruit all of us for the library's summer reading camps."  
"Hey!" Cas piped up. "Rachel, those programs are extremely beneficial for children."  
"Do you want, say, Balthazar, anywhere near those children?"

For his part Balthazar shot Cas a sleazy grin, perfectly acting the part of the exact guy parents didn't want teaching their kids to read.

"...Point taken." Cas allowed, settling back in his seat. "Moving on, what’s on tonight, anyway?"

The conversation in the room picked up again, everyone putting in their input on what exactly they should be watching as they skimmed through the television's guide. Unfortunately for everyone else in the room, one of the stations was playing Porky's 2, the one film in the world that Sam knew, if he could, Dean would turn into real life. Dean played the 'house rules' card, saying it was his TV and if they didn't like it they were free to take their beers out on the balcony and listen to the sultry sounds of their neighbours' choices in programming - probably CSI reruns.

Sam almost made it all the way to the end. He tried, he really did, but he'd seen that damn movie way too many times. "If anyone needs me, I'll be on the balcony listening to David Caruso and his amazingly bad acting." He heaved himself up and off the couch, leaning down to gather up the beer bottles off the coffee table.

"I think I'll join you, champ," Gabriel said, getting up and holding out his hand to take some of the bottles from Sam. 

Without making it too obvious Sam glanced at Dean, who had a bit of a smug smirk on his face. Right. This was basically the only chance he had, right? May as well take it. If anything it was time alone with Gabriel and away from his three hundredth viewing of Porky's 2, so that was a blessing. Passing off some of the bottles to Gabriel, he crossed the living room and kitchen, opening the sliding door carefully with the bottles cradled in one arm, stepping off onto the balcony.

___

So maybe it was a bit of an obvious move, but dammit. Sam hadn't played fair, without even knowing that he was playing at all. When Sam had bent over to gather up the empties off the coffee table, Gabriel couldn't help but notice that particularly fabulous ass of Sam's. Maybe he was a little drunk too, but really. It was a really nice ass. And Sam was going to be out on the balcony all alone and, hey, he'd missed just talking with him, maybe this was his chance of a lifetime. That ass was trying to tell him something. So he'd blurted out about joining Sam on the balcony, helped carry the bottles to the cold concrete overhang, and now was biting his tongue, trying not to make comments again while Sam bent over, carefully putting the empties into the old beer box next to the shabby looking balcony table. Dropping comments about his ass would probably have Sam raising eyebrows pretty fast, and while the stunned look on his face would be a prize, Gabriel slightly doubted he could count on rational or heartfelt conversation and confessionals after an opener like 'Nice ass, why isn't it in my bed?'

"Hey, Gabe, pass those over here," Sam said, glancing back over his shoulder, holding out a hand for the bottles Gabe was holding. He passed them off wordlessly, suddenly glad to have his hands free, shoving them into his pockets. Why the hell was he acting like a horny teenager? Aside from the fact that he could be one, that was. This week had played games with his head. He was waking up nightly, more than a little aroused, cursing his brain for its timing, just when his dreams had been getting good. It wasn't like he hadn't had sex dreams about Sam before. You'd have to be dead not to have had a sex dream about Sam Winchester in his honest opinion. The thing was that these dreams, and Castiel's constant badgering, had him a little on edge, a little wondering of when, exactly, it would be best to stop holding off, push Sam into a janitor's closet, and find out if the anatomy in his dreams was anything like the real thing. 

He stepped over to the balcony railing, crossing his arms and looking down at the lit street below. A minute later Sam joined him, nudging his elbow with his own. Gabriel took a breath, and then looked up, trademark grin in place. "Hiya, kiddo. All done playing maid?"

"Very funny," Sam grumbled, but his own smile didn't fall. Something had changed from the rest of this week. It felt like at least some of the tension had seeped out from between them. Things were comfortable again. And that, for Gabriel, was like a breath of fresh air. "Anyway. You asked earlier about work. Don't tell mom and dad in there, but nah, nothing new to report. Not gonna lie, it's boring when you aren’t around to talk to. It basically leaves Tessa and she's nice enough but... The entire morgue staff is sort of weird."

"Amen to that," Gabriel laughed, ignoring the happy heat blooming in his stomach.  
"That'll be my gig tomorrow, Sammy. 12 to 6 with no one to chat up but toddlers. Oh, and Zach. There's the promise of thrilling conversation for you."

Sam laughed, his nice, full laugh, the one that made his dimples show, and his eyes light up. If there was something Gabriel loved, something that he would never admit made him weak in the knees, it was that laugh, it was that smile. "You, uh, you chat up toddlers, do you? I'm pretty sure that goes against some part of that oath you took when you became a doctor, Gabe."

Gabriel snorted, knocking his leg against Sam's, staring out over the part of the city they could see from the balcony. They stood like that for a few minutes, just enjoying the nice, quiet, comfort of the silence between them. Things really did feel back to normal. Maybe this little party idea had been a good thing. They had both been able to blow off steam in a nice, healthy, socially acceptable way, and things were fine. They would go back to how they had been, and none of that painful awkward feeling would linger.

But... Somehow, with it so close, with the alcohol still fuelling his system to a certain point, and with the knowledge that this was his chance, created by Fate - or Dean and Castiel, Gabriel was starting to think he wasn't okay with things going back to being the way they had been. Not by a long shot. He opened his mouth for the first time in about five minutes, sliding his arm across the railing on the balcony to rest against Sam's. "Nah, Sammy. You're the only one I chat up," he tilted his head, "Well, the only one I try to chat up."

Sam was silent for a second before he turned, looking Gabriel in the eyes, his mouth quirked in a bit of a hesitant smile on one side. "Really?"

"Oh yeah," Gabriel said. "But you're just immune to my charms."

"Huh," Sam nodded once, a bit of a delirious smile creeping onto his face. "I don't know that I'm all that immune, really, Gabriel. Maybe you're just crap at chatting people up," he was still smiling, and his eyes, his damn eyes. Gabriel wouldn't have been able to keep standing if he weren't holding on to the balcony, with the full force of that grin and those eyes, sparking with hope and amusement and who knew what else turned on him. It was a little insulting really, that he was feeling a little airy, a little weak-kneed. 

"No, I’m pretty sure I'm great at it, you're just a bit dense. You're your brother's brother, Sam Winchester. You are your brother's brother."

Sam laughed again, impossibly beautiful, and he seemed closer, even though Gabriel was sure that neither of them had moved in the slightest. The younger Winchester turned his head for a second, not speaking or really seeming to be looking at anything, just taking a few breaths before he spoke again. "Maybe I am a bit dense. But I'm going to need a bit more to go on before I believe your case, here, doc Gabe."

Gabriel thought about it for about half a second, then shrugged one shoulder. "All right, look at me, kiddo," he waited until Sam turned to him before turning his own head. Sam really looked lit up from the inside. His hazel eyes were alive with light, crinkled around the edges from the force of his smile. It was hesitant, a little shaky, but it was there, teeth pressed softly to his lower lip. Gabriel took a breath to steady himself out, head feeling amazing clear from where it had felt fuzzy only moments ago, and reached up, fingers curling in the lapel of the open plaid shirt Sam was wearing over his black v-neck...

And then there was an unholy crash from inside the apartment and they broke apart, blinking at each other for a second in shock before Sam was moving to the sliding door in one big step, muttering swears under his breath as he pulled it open and jogged through the kitchen towards the living room, Gabriel hot on his tail.

Andy was sitting on the living room among the wreckage of the soda cans, chip bowls and pizza plates that had been left on the coffee table, smiling sheepishly at the room's occupants.

"Holy crap, Andy, you okay?" Sam asked, moving in to offer Andy a hand while Dean and Balthazar carefully righted the coffee table back on its four legs, and off of Andy's.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Tripped over my own two damn feet, crashed into the table, you know," he laughed a bit, sheepish to compliment his smile. "Typical clumsiness."

Gabriel finally smiled, shaking his head. "Happens to the best of us, man. I'll go grab the broom." He turned to walk back into the kitchen.

"Gabe?"

Glancing over his shoulder Gabriel caught Sam looking at him, eyes showing both his focus for the current problem, but also confusion, almost like he was lost, unsure exactly how they had gotten from the balcony to in the trashed living room. Gabriel was wondering that himself, wondering if they had really, actually been there, on the brink, finally about to end this long drawn out dance.

"Broom's in the standing closet beside the fridge."

Gabriel smiled, nodding. "Ay ay, captain!" He turned back around, trotting into the kitchen to go and find the aforementioned broom.

When he did, he could have sworn he heard Dean say 'Sammy?', a beat and then Balthazar, in a low growl, 'Of all the times to forget how to operate your damn motor functions, Andy.'

Then again, all of that was lost in the din of the others giving each other instructions and directions on where to find towels for the soda and beer on the (thankfully wood) floor. He'd probably imagined it. 

One thing was for sure, though. Regardless of if he imagined it, he wouldn't be sleeping a peaceful sleep tonight.


	3. Chapter 3

Everyone had taken off once they got everything cleaned up, though Andy and Pam had hung around inside the apartment while Dean walked down with Cas (and Gabriel, though he'd sort of given his jovial goodbye and skipped off down the hall alone ahead of Cas). Andy had been full of apologies, waving his hands around, berating himself for falling over himself just when thirteen years of sexual tension was about to amount to something. Sam was repeatedly telling him not to worry about it, but he didn't exactly seem to be listening. Pam laid her hand on Sam's arm, giving him a reassuring smile.

"If it started going that way, that means the floodgates are open. I’m surprised he isn't back here now, breaking your door down to sweep you off your feet."

Sam rolled his eyes, arms crossing over his chest as he leaned back against the doorframe. "Make me sound like more of a princess, Pam."

She smiled brighter, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "Buck up, Princess Samantha."

Another eye roll. "I will take 'Grumpy' over 'Princess Samantha' any day, if you're taking suggestions."

Pam laughed, stepping out the apartment door, Andy close on her heels, mouthing his apologies again. "Chin up, Sam." 

And with that they left, the heavy apartment door swinging shut behind them, leaving Sam to walk to the living room and flop, face down, on the couch. He hadn't imagined all that, right? Hadn't spun something that wasn't happening in his head because he'd had a few and Gabriel was right there, cracking jokes? Part of him, that really nice, skeptical part, was telling him that he had. That there was no way, absolutely no way, that he had been inches, scant inches, from kissing Gabriel. But he remembered the feeling of having his shirt tugged on, of leaning down just a bit. It had to have happened. Which definitely hurt more, because they had been that close, so close to the conclusion of thirteen years of wanting, and Andy had tripped and ended it all faster than it had built up.

"You better not be trying to suffocate yourself, Sam."

Pulling his face out of the couch cushion and rolling over Sam found Dean standing in the door between the hall and the living room, smiling sympathetically. "You look like a dog that had a steak pulled away from it."

"Good comparison," Sam grumbled, pulling himself to sit up. "I guess the good news is that you weren't wrong," he said, watching as Dean came and took the spot his legs had vacated. "I don't think. He was definitely flirting back. He was going to kiss me, Dean. I think. Until..."

"Andy went for gold in the Beijing Olympics and missed the first hurdle. Yeah, I... Man, I'm sorry, Sammy. But at least now you know there's something there, right?" Dean put a hand on each of his knees, leaning forward to flash a grin in Sam's face. "Right? Come on man, this is the most I am going to willingly talk to you about you getting Gabriel's slobber all over you."

A small smile jumped onto Sam's face and he nodded. "Yeah. At least I know that," he stretched, listening to his vertebrae pop. "Mm, I don't know about you, but I am ready to hit the hay."

Dean nodded, getting to his feet. "Oh yeah. Definitely. I'm planning on going to brunch with Cas tomorrow so I should probably try to hit some semblance of rested, or he'll try to mom me. You gonna sleep in?"

"Probably. Gotta make the most of my day off."

Twenty minutes later, Sam was staring up at his bedroom ceiling, wide awake, willing his body to calm down. Which it was resolutely tossing back at him by becoming more and more riled up and ready to go. Which was really annoying, because he just really wanted to sleep, but that was going to be difficult to do with a raging hard-on.

He sighed, fisting his hands in the sheets, listening intently to make sure Dean wasn't still shuffling around out there, and then pushed his hands under the sheet, curling around the waistband of his sleep pants and lifting his hips, pushing them down enough to kick them off, losing them somewhere around the end of the bed.

Sam had done this so many times before he'd lost count, but something about this time felt different, more energized. He took a deep breath, one hand splayed over his stomach, sliding lower slow, torturous with how ready he already was for this. But that, he thought, made it better. Gabriel would make him wait, would draw it out with pointless petting like this. Gabriel had always seemed the type to get pleasure out of that sort of thing. So Sam slid his hand down slow, eyes slipping closed as he slowly, lightly wrapped fingers around the base of himself, letting loose a small sigh that turned into a bitten off groan as his brain provided the stimulus for all this: imagine it as Gabriel's hand, not his own.

And as he slid his hand up, fingers tightening, a light squeezing pressure on the stroke, he did. Imagine it as Gabriel doing this, not him, imagined Gabriel there next to him instead of him being alone in the bed. Gabriel would press against his side, warm skin to warm skin, hand curled around Sam's cock and stroking, slowly up and down, teasing. Head falling back on the pillow, Sam bit back a whine, fingers tightening just a bit.

The Gabriel in his head pressed closer, mouth close to Sam's ear, whispering while he quickened his pace. Would Gabriel be the type for dirty talk? The Gabriel Sam was imagining seemed to be going that way.

You like this, don't you Sammy? Just the beginning too, imagine what I'm going to do to you.

Sam flicked his thumb over his head, breathing out a shaky 'please'.

That's it, Sam. Ask really nicely.  
Sam knew better, he really did. He knew Gabriel wasn't really there, he knew that Gabriel wasn't the one tightening his grip and quickening his strokes, but he was going a little mad with the illusion. Imagining Gabriel and that dangerous smirk, teeth grazing over his jaw line, mouth moving down his throat, soft chuckles bleeding into him. If he concentrated really hard, he could imagine the vibrations of those chuckles against his chest.

He slid his hand down his length, slipping loose at the base, curling down to cup his balls in his hand, warmth of his palm mixing with the tingling pleasure of the sensation. His head tipped back just a bit more, mouth falling open in needy pants.  
Oh, kiddo, so sensitive. I know just what you like, don't I?

Sam was nodding mindlessly, swallowing down another groan, unsure if it was a good sign or a bad sign that the idea of Gabriel calling him 'kiddo' in bed had his blood boiling, body begging for more stimulation. And the Gabriel in his head was doing nothing but obliging, mouthing lower while Sam rolled his balls, until that subconscious mirage was grinning at him, dipping his head...

Sam's hand slid back up, index and middle finger pressing to the underside of his cock at the base, rubbing in slow circles, mimicking the tease and press of the imagined Gabriel's tongue on him. He bit down on his lower lip, easing up, slowing up even as he whimpered at the loss, fingers trailing up his hot skin, rubbing over the head again, and then, index and thumb a tight ring, down, slow, to the base, and back up. Gabriel in his head was watching him with sparkling golden eyes, hands on Sam's hips, holding him still, lips dragging up and down, tongue pressing against hot flesh.

It was too much and not enough all at once and the memory of how close they had been tonight to heading towards this was bittersweet in his memory, spurring him on until he was tightening his free hand in the bed sheet, tugging, biting down on his lip hard to lock in a moan as he came, stars flashing in his vision, heat spurting over his fist and stomach, heart hammering away in his chest.

That's what I wanted, kiddo.  
And then it was over and Sam came back to reality, laying flat out in his bed, breathing hard, dazed, and back to staring at the ceiling like it was going to ground him after he'd been ripped from the ground and left floating. Gabriel's voice was gone out of his head, the phantom touch had moved on. He was left there in a bit of a mess with his heart going a mile a minute, Gabriel's name still on his lips.

He needed kleenex.

___

Sunday was not turning out to be Gabriel's day. He'd woken up on the wrong side of the bed, clearly, and though he was doing just fine faking it for his patients and everyone else at work, the second he walked out of the hospital at 6:05pm and headed into the subway station, the older lady who manned the newspaper and candy stand held out his usual Twix bar and shook her head.

"On me today, sweetie. You look like someone gave you a puppy and then took it away. And then they took a dump in your coffee."

She really didn't know how right she was.

He had attempted to put a positive spin on it, he truly had. They had at least stopped with the awkward tension that had been building all week. And if anything, they had been full-on flirting, and from what Gabriel could tell, Sam was very aware that they were flirting. He was playful; he had been going to kiss Gabriel back. There was definitely, definitely something there.

And then the coffee table had jumped in Andy's way and their special moment had been blown wide open. Gabriel was aware his hand was tightening dangerously on the handrail as the subway train sped towards his stop. He didn't care. Not even when he stepped off the train, flexing a sore hand, the muscles bunched from his grip.

The next step had to be not letting the ground that they had gained slip away again. Sam had expressed obvious interest. That was as good a confirmation as any that Gabriel was free to go about his normal tactics, that Sam was wide open and ready for a relationship.

Suddenly the sky was a bit brighter. Gabriel was grinning from ear to ear when he got to his building, walking along the pathway to the door, key carding his way in. Tomorrow may be a Monday, but it was his best and first chance. He'd ask Sam out for a drink, plain and simple. Neither of them would be tipsy, neither of them would be interrupted by clumsy Gallaghers. It was perfect.

And then Gabriel would be honest. He would tell Sam exactly what had been going around in his head for years now. By the time he unlocked his apartment door and traipsed in, his regular bounce was back. And his libido was maybe back to being wide awake.  
Drinks was what he would say when he asked Sam out.

What he'd do, though, was wine and dine Sam Winchester. And then he'd bring that gigantor of a lawyer home, toss him down in his bed and make love to that boy like he'd never experienced before in his life. He'd make the entire thing a night to remember. And in the process prove without going out of his way to Dean Winchester that he could do his brother good.

He smirked, opening up his freezer to start something for supper. Oh, he was brilliant. Yes, yes he was.

___

That Monday was the same as any other Monday that Sam had seen. He woke up, showered, dressed, slid into the impala with Dean, carefully ignored his older brother's thinly veiled stabs at feeling out his mental state, said hello to Bobby, and went on to the subway. It wasn't until he was standing in the rocking subway car, speeding towards the stop by the hospital that he realised this was the first time since Saturday he would be seeing Gabriel, and would be expected to be one hundred percent focused and on topic, and not start asking if what had almost happened that night had actually almost happened. And then try to make it actually happen.

He had to be on target, he had to make it through the morning before he even saw Gabriel, there was no way in hell he was sneaking down to pediatrics to corner Gabe in his examination room and start spewing out these questions.

No matter the scenes that particular option gave him.

"You seem a bit distracted this morning, Sam."

Sam jumped back to the present, staring at Tessa Richings, the hospital morgue's second lead. Tessa was a cute girl, dark hair and light eyes, all caring features. But she was one of the hardest hearted individuals that Sam had ever met. He'd known her before he'd started working at the hospital - she and Dean had once had a prelude to a thing - and while it was hard to imagine her as a morgue technician, Sam managed. Especially when the first time he'd met her in a professional capacity she'd been wrist deep in a heart attack victim's ribcage.

Despite her hard heartedness, however, Tessa had her moments when she surprised Sam with her genuine concern and caring. Now, as she blinked, leaning back a bit, and then laid her hand on his forearm, was shaping up to be one of those times.

"You have a hard weekend, there, Sam?" she asked, walking with him down the hall through administration, heading for the elevators. 

"Eh. Dean and I had company Saturday night. Might have overdone it a little."

The less Tessa knew the better. Sam was already aware of just how many people knew about his little romantic drama. He didn't need Tessa to be standing in the basement all day, dragging through patients' remains and contemplating the nature of Sam's not-relationship with Gabriel. 

"A little?" Tessa raised a skeptical eyebrow, leaning forward as they walked to look up into his face. "You look like you got hit by a tank, Sam."

"So much for Sunday being a day of rest, huh?" Sam joked, attempting to shoot her a winning smile, winning enough that she'd forget she was engrossed in the mystery behind Sam's kicked puppy expression a few minutes ago.

"You rest?" she asked casually, pushing the button to call them an elevator. "How did Dean hold up if you're this bad?"

"Dean? Dean's totally fine. You know Dean; no drink will ever conquer him or knock him down for long."

"But it sure looks like it got you down," Tessa commented, stepping into the elevator. A few other doctors followed in behind them, pressing buttons until the elevator panel was lit up like a lopsided Christmas tree. Tessa seemed to think that it was probably best to drop the issue. It would probably come off a little unprofessional. Either way, Sam was grateful, because there was only so much longer that he could bullshit being hung over or, more to the point, being worn out from being hung-over.

They said their goodbyes at Sam's floor. Tessa hopped off with him and pressed the down button for the elevator, waiting for the next while he hurried along the hall to his office. He planned to get some filing, calling and research done this morning, so long as there wasn't a new case needing his attention sitting in his inbox. It would be nice to have a good, light, easy - relatively - morning after the annoyance that had been yesterday, lounging around the apartment, attempting to read, attempting to not to text Gabriel and ask if he could see him after the other was done at work. When he'd woken up on Sunday morning he had decided that the best idea for how to proceed was probably to take a day to cool off - which was hard, with Andy constantly texting him more apologies - and get his head on properly without every single voice of common sense he had telling him to show up at the hospital at 6 and kiss the life out of Gabe.

Those plans of his, however, went right out the window when he rounded the corner and nearly ran right into Zachariah Adler. Director Adler seemed to be in ripe form today, if the smirk on his face was anything to go by. For Sam, the smirk was more than enough. 

Sam knew a lot of smirkers. Gabriel's were always playful, or borderline dangerous (and those were the ones that made his heartbeat speed up just a bit). Dean's were always smug, or sometimes hinting at some joke that only he would find funny. Balthazar's were skeezy, to say the least. But Zachariah Adler's were the worst. When he was smirking at you it either meant you were in for a world of hurt, a world of work, unnecessary ribbing about your work, disciplinary action, or Zach was just feeling good that day and felt like scaring his employees, regardless of whether or not they were interns or veterans.

"Morning, Sam!" Zach greeted, reaching a hand up to clap it on Sam's shoulder. "Just the man I was looking for."

Oh goodie.

"Morning, Director Adler," Sam answered, forcing a smile. "What can I do for you today?"

Zach turned, gesturing Sam to continue along to his office, hands moving about as he continued to talk. "It's the Garrisons."

Sam felt his heart clench in his chest. He knew what was coming. The Garrisons were a particularly well known family, well discussed case, at York General. The Garrisons' daughter, Callie, had been in an accident years ago, years before Gabriel had even come to work at the hospital, and was still in a coma. The girl had been showing healthy brain waves for years, and the hospital in general held on to the belief, along with her parents, that she would eventually wake up.

But a few weeks ago Callie's condition had changed; the brain waves had slowed considerably over time. As far as her doctors were concerned, Callie was losing brain power fast, and was coming closer and closer to the textbook definition of a vegetable every day. The idea of taking her off life support had been tossed around quite a bit, but the Garrisons were having none of it.

But that Zach was coming to Sam about this now meant that something had changed.

"Callie's brainwaves have, unfortunately, ceased to be much more than a blip every few hours. I need you to do me a favour and lay out for Mr. and Mrs. Garrison, using Dr. Hydeker's notes on the case, a proposal to pull the plug. You're good at this whole human emotion thing, and they aren't willing to listen to Hydeker directly. Something about him giving up too soon." Zach finally turned his smug gaze on Sam. "You can do that, right, Winchester?"

Sam swallowed, thinking about it. Sure, he could do it; the question was if he wanted to. He knew, rationally, keeping Callie alive now wasn't going to do the girl any good. She wasn't really there anymore, she was a body animated by pumps and electric monitors. Holding on to her, for the Garrisons, was probably doing more bad than good. But he also could sympathize with them. Callie, so far as Sam knew, was their only child. Having to let her go would probably crush them.

"Yes, sir," Sam answered, stopping outside his office. "I take it Hydeker e-mailed me his notes?"

Zach beamed, putting his hands into his pockets, nodding happily. "Good good. That's the attitude I like to hear. He certainly did. I expect that proposal in my inbox for my review by the time you leave tonight."

Sam nodded once, unlocking and opening the door to his office. "Will do. Have a good day, sir."

"You too, Sam," Adler said, turning down the hall towards the elevators. "You too."

As he shut his office door, Sam sighed. At least his mind would effectively be off Gabriel. Too bad it was on something like this.

___

By lunch Sam was more than ready to be away from his office, away from the proposal that he was attempting to finalise. It had taken him four hours to get Hydeker's notes arranged into something that wasn't clinical and wasn't overly legal. He would be sending it to his colleague for proofing as soon as he'd tweaked a few things. He had been ready to skip lunch and work through until he had it back proofed, but his phone had buzzed on the paper covered tabletop of his desk, and without thinking he'd answered.

Skipping lunch today, kiddo?

Gabriel.

It had taken just a few seconds for him to steel himself up, save the proposal and hibernate his computer. He grabbed his wallet and keys, leaving his suit jacket draped over the back of his chair, and left, locking his office door behind him and loping off towards the elevators. Once the doors had closed on him, he texted Gabriel back.

Got caught up in a proposal. Meet you in two?

Part of him was worried that Gabriel would think he was deliberately avoiding him by not being there at the time they normally met up for lunch. And while Sam didn't write off that part of him had been staying in his office to try and avoid Gabriel, he wasn't going to give in and be a coward like that. Like if he saw Gabriel he'd realise he had imagined Saturday night or something along those lines.

When he walked into the cafeteria, Gabriel was right there. Well, not right there. But he was seated close to the entrance, and raised his hand in the air when Sam walked in, beaming, two trays already on the table. Sam couldn't help the grin that slid up on his face as he walked over, dropping into the seat across from Gabriel, looking from the tray in front of him - chicken caesar salad and a coke - to Gabriel, one eyebrow raising in question.

"Yeah, you owe me eight bucks for that. I figured I'd be a kind soul and grab your lunch for you since you were dawdling, kiddo."

And just like that, things were fine. They weren't awkward, they weren't tense. They were back to normal, or as normal as they could be. Sam felt comfortable in his own skin, and when Gabriel winked at him across the table, the hope he'd been keeping locked down in his stomach exploded. Pretty violently. Violently enough that he banged his knee off the bottom of the table, making them both jump back.

"Uh..." Sam grinned, a bit sheepish. "Muscle spasm."

Gabriel laughed. "Mhmm. Too long behind that desk, Sammy." He dug into his lunch without a further word, leaving Sam to do the same, wondering why a simple freaking wink had made him react like a love struck teenager without control of his basic motor functions.

"Whatever, man," He poured the packets of caesar dressing over his salad. "So, how was your morning?"

Gabriel shrugged, "Vaccination city. And another weird rash - protip, mommy, it's chicken pox."

Sam stopped, fork midway to his mouth. "You're kidding me."

"I kid you not," Gabriel said, shaking his head. "I mean, I get that it could be anything, but itchy red bumps all over the body... I gotta tell you, lady, that's pretty much one thing and one thing only."

"It will never cease to--"

"--Amaze you how dense parents can be?" Gabriel supplied, grinning at Sam across the table. "Me neither, me neither. So, how was your morning?"

Sam explained the Garrison situation. He told Gabriel how he'd found Zach lurking around his office earlier that morning, and been handed the task of telling Mr. and Mrs. Garrison, in as many kind words as possible, the findings of Hydeker's testing and observation over the last few months - and over the years proceeding that. And how very much he didn't want to have to be the one to tell these parents that their teenage daughter needed to be taken off the life support, that it was time, for her best interest, for them to let her go. But he would, because it was his job.

"Actually, no," Gabriel pointed out, crossing his arms on the tabletop. "It isn't your job to tell the patient's parents that it is time to let go. That is why the hospital employs counsellors, that is why Hydeker is there - Callie is his patient." He picked up his own coke, taking a sip before continuing. "Zach is testing your versatility. I have no doubts that you can do this, but you shouldn't have to. The legal advisor, the legal team, the hospital's best damn lawyer shouldn't be involved until we are having to fight to take her off the support."

"So," Sam asked, something clicking in his head. "You think Zach is expecting them to fight the suggestion?"

"Well, from what you told me, they already are, aren't they? By refusing to hear it from Hydeker."

Sam nodded, thinking about it. Gabriel had a point. "Maybe hearing it from Hydeker will make it all too real for them though?"

Gabriel pointed his fork at Sam, nodding grimly again. "That also makes sense. I think Zach is having you do this as pre-emptive, just in case they resist. This way you, our best lawyer, are already aware of the entire case and you can build a case that we can take forward to have this poor girl put to rest."

They discussed it for a bit longer before moving on to other topics: how work had gone for Gabriel the day before, how Castiel had texted Gabriel that morning with a story about a little girl who had tried to smuggle in copies of the Magic Treehouse books because she'd lost her library card and thought she'd be in trouble for returning them without it. Almost too late Sam noticed that his hour was nearly up. Not that he thought anyone would be waiting for him to get back to his office, but, especially today, with that proposal, he shouldn't take too many unnecessary chances.

Gabriel caught him checking his watch and smiled. Sam wondered if he was imagining that way, or if it really was as rueful as it looked. "We should head back, eh, kiddo?"  
"Unfortunately," Sam answered, reaching over for Gabriel’s tray to toss their garbage out. "But, um," he chanced a look up, across the table into Gabriel's curious caramel eyes. "I'll see you at 6, same place as always?"

Damn, did his voice really sound that hesitant? Regardless, Gabriel's face broke into a grin, and he nodded, spreading his arms. 

"Why wouldn't we? Unless you got some hot date to get to? You know, other than me."  
Sam would really have to do something about the way his heart kept skipping beats when Gabriel made little comments like that, or winked. This entire lunch break had been full of Gabriel dropping little lines like that, and if Sam wasn't crazy, they'd definitely, definitely been flirting in that teasing kind of way: the one where both parties are aware there is mutual attraction and they're trying to make the other break down before they do. A simple hour had made his day so much better.

"You're the only hot date I'd have booked, Gabe," Sam answered, hoping he hadn't missed a beat.

"Good to know," Gabriel shot him another wink, standing up from the table. "You, me, pediatrics reception, subway ride, 6o'clock sharp, Sammy."

Sam nodded, walking in the opposite direction to throw out their garbage before heading back up to the office level, feeling lighter than he'd felt in a day and a half.

___

Gabriel was feeling pretty damn proud of himself, if he was honest. He'd spent that entire lunch break barely stopping himself from abandoning his 'master plan' and telling Sam 'Hey, you, me, let's blow this popsicle stand and make a day of this'. Especially because it was more than obvious that they were both on board with the program now. Sam was blatantly flirting back with him, making cracks that he had always made, but now when he made them he was holding Gabriel's gaze, giving him crooked little smiles. Saturday, it seemed, despite Andy face planting spectacularly, had been the final piece to the puzzle they'd been dealing with for years.

But his plan would go out to the end. He was going to wait until they were on the train, ask Sam how the rest of that proposal had gone, make all kinds of small talk, and then ask Sam out for a drink. And of course, Sam would accept. Yeah, they both had work the next day, but they were grown men. They could survive having one night for drinks. Or, you know, what Gabriel would say was drinks, but what he meant was a casual dinner at the local bar and grill.

"You look happy."

Gabriel turned around, leaning on the circular reception counter and beaming at Ava Wilson, the midshift receptionist. "Why thank you. That would be because I am happy.'

Ava snorted, rolling her eyes before going back to typing up the appointment information for the next day for the various pediatricians. "And why are you do happy, Gabriel? Or do I dare ask? I mean, knowing you..."

"What about me?" Gabriel asked, still grinning disarmingly. "I'm a pleasure and a joy to be around and work with, aren't I? A regular Johnny Everyman."

Ava looked up and stared flatly at him then. "No. You, Gabriel Novak, are an unpredictable menace. Johnny Everyman is my fiancé."

"Oh my. Are you saying your fiancé is boring, Ava?"

"Gabriel, leave the girl alone."

Both Gabe and Ava turned to look up at Sam, case slung over his shoulder, suit jacket draped over one of his arms, shirt sleeves rolled up. He looked a picture, he really did. Gabriel wasn't complaining in the slightest about his 'unprofessional' appearance. In fact, the longer he looked, the more he was appreciating it. And the upturns lingering at the corners of Sam's mouth made him wonder if maybe the lawyer hadn't intended just for that to happen. Sam was too modest for that. Then again, after the whole knee-banging incident in the cafeteria, maybe he was looking for a little bit of revenge on Gabriel.

"But she said it!" Gabriel argued, pointing a finger at Ava.

"Oh, shut up, menace," Ava shot back. "Hey, Sam. Have a good night?"

"Will do!" Gabriel cut across as Sam started wishing Ava the same. "Come on, kiddo, we're gonna miss the train if we linger with the Future Mrs. Johnny Everyman any longer!"

Sam finished wishing a rather suspicious looking Ava a good night and then was walking beside Gabriel, long legs catching up to him effortlessly. "You just had to tease her, didn't you?"

"'Course I did!" Gabriel chimed. "I'm off the clock, she was there, she set me up - it would have been a crime not to rib her for it."

Sam chuckled, shaking his head while they veering to the right and down into the tunnel leading to the subway. "Only by your standards."

"My standards are the best standards," Gabriel flashed his pass at the subway operator, pushing through the mechanical arms to head towards the platform, Sam behind him. "You have to admit, they are rather good."

"Not sure what you're measuring that by," Sam said, distracted as he closed his wallet and slipped it back into his pocket. "Your standards being rather good, I mean."  
Gabriel waited as they came to a stop, not bothering to try and speak over the train as it came whooshing and screeching into the station. Once it had stopped and people began piling off and piling in, he shrugged one shoulder. "Well, you of course. I think you're proof of my standards being pretty good. Or at least pretty big."

Sam was quiet for a second. Gabriel glanced up to see him scanning the cars in front of them, before he grabbed Gabriel by the elbow and tugged him towards the car ahead of the one they had been waiting in front of. 

"Uh, kiddo?"

"Hold on a second," Sam answered, not looking at Gabriel, but fitting into the car, waving him in behind him, and heading for the least crowded corner. Gabriel raised an eyebrow in question, but followed without comment, stopping beside Sam and reaching out to grip one of the handrails while Sam reached up to curl his fingers around one of the upper bars. Where they were standing was pretty secluded, mostly young retail workers from the mall, iPods turned up full blast in their ears, paying little attention to anything around them. Sam waited to look at Gabriel until the car was rocketing out of the station. Then he was looking down at the pediatrician both eyebrows raised. "I'm proof of you having good standards."

It wasn't really a question, more a statement barring enlightenment. Gabriel was a little bit annoyed - this forced his plan to drop all the small talk in between. But maybe that wasn't such a terrible thing? Sam seemed more than on board with Gabriel going right to the question about going out for drinks, so it was now or... Stall the kid until they were closer to Gabriel's stop.

One look at Sam's face and the half-formed idea to do that left Gabriel's mind without a second thought.

"Sure are, you sure are," Gabriel answered bluntly, one eyebrow cocked as he smirked up at Sam, whose face was giving away just a little surprise - more than likely at Gabriel's frankness than at the fact that he'd said it at all. "So, that being said - you, me, drinks tonight?"

Sam mouthed wordlessly for a moment, like he was waiting for his brain to supply the words to his mouth and was just getting warmed up for them to come out. "I, uh, yeah. Tonight? You're good if I go home to change first, right?"

"You serious, kid? No, I want you to come right now in the clothes you've been in all day, reeking of hospital and-"

"-What, you too?" Sam blurted out, turning his head to sniff his shirt. "Do I actually smell like a hospital?"

Gabriel couldn't help the grin and the laugh that came out of him, point up at Sam with his free hand. "You really think I would know? I'm completely immune to that crap, I don't even smell it at all anymore. My point, Gigantor, was go home, shower, change, meet me back at my stop at 8, 8:30?"

The smile that Sam gave him was one of Gabriel's favourites. His dimples showed up, the smile reached his eyes, and he nodded. "That sounds great. It's," Gabriel could have sworn there was a dramatic pause, like the universe itself was aware of how momentous and long-awaited this moment was. "A date."

___

"Yes!"

Sam was a little taken off guard. He'd gotten off the train and back to his apartment in a bit of a happy daze, walked into the living room, and immediately Dean had broke into a huge grin, pointed at him, and yelled that. It was probably written all over his face, considering the way Dean was getting to his feet and coming towards him with his hand out, clearly looking to give a congratulatory handshake. Still, the greeting was a bit shocking, a bit unexpected, and served to snap Sam out of his happy daze and actually get words out.

"We're going out for drinks tonight."

Dean's grin was wide, bright, and just a little teasing. "That's good, Sammy. You see? I told you he was digging ya, Sasquatch."

That helped Sam fully snap out of it, rolling his eyes and shoving Dean away by the shoulder. "Yeah yeah. You and Cas can celebrate your successful matchmaking attempt. Or, successful so far," he turned, slipping from the living room and heading towards the bathroom, already stripping out of his clothes. "We'll see how tonight goes." He flicked on the bathroom light, turning and closing the door all but a crack behind him. Mostly because Dean was still standing there - a few feet back - shit-eating grin still on his face. 

Once the door was closed Sam hung his suit jacket over the hook on the back of the door, dress shirt draping over that, tie tossed on the counter next to his watch. On the other side of the door Dean was saying something about how it was going to go awesomely, he knew it would, because as a big brother he just knew these things. While Sam undid his belt Dean switched the topic from how the date would go just great to how Sam had better keep it down if he brought Gabriel back to their apartment afterwards. Sam paused in hooking his thumbs over the waistband of his boxers, suddenly catching on that he hadn't even though about what happened after the date yet. He hadn't made any kind of contingency plans for anyone going to anyone's apartment after the date. And in hindsight, that was probably really stupid, and he probably seriously owed Dean a thank you for that. He shucked off his boxers and stepped towards the door, fingers pressing to the white painted wood. 

"Okay, Dean, I'm going to shower now and ignore the fact that you're going off about whatever it is you're going off about."

"I'm just saying, if I wake up and I find you two all blissed out on the couch I'm going to be just a little annoyed, Sammy, so bedroom if you must and--"

Sam resolutely shut the door before Dean could finish that thought and stepped over to the shower, turned the knob and pulling the release, sticking his hand under the hot stream of water before stepping into the jet, letting it pound against his shoulders, whatever stress from the day that had attempted to linger sliding off with the rivulets of water that poured down his back and over the curves of his shoulders over his chest.

While he pushed his fingers through his hair, Sam thought about what Dean had said on the other side of the door, and questioned why he hadn't thought of it up until now. There was the possibility that they'd end up there one way or another, in bed, that was. Sam wasn't complaining if they did, not at all. But the possibility was at the fore of his mind now, and all the images from all those times when it was him and his hand and the mere idea of Gabriel were bleeding out along his limbs, into his blood, making him hot all over in a way that didn't have anything to do with the temperature of the shower. Of course his body would react like it was a 16 year old's to the idea of finally, after how many years, rolling around in the sheets with Gabriel Novak.

Picking up the shampoo bottle from the shelf, Sam mentally made a preparation list. One, wash his hair. Two, jack off. Three, wash thoroughly. Four, shave if it was needed, if not, go right on to number five, getting dressed. And then head back to the subway.

When he left the bathroom, clean (and calm) towel wrapped around his waist, he was more than a little surprised that, instead of his typical classic rock, Dean was blasting the Black Eyed Peas' "I Gotta Feeling" - specifically the intro to the song, the repeat of 'I gotta feeling that tonight's gonna be a good night'. Sam stopped partway to his room to stick his head into the living room, glaring just slightly at Dean, who was sitting on the couch, Sam's laptop perched on his lap, ankles crossed, smirk in place. "You think you're being funny."

"I think I'm hilarious," Dean shot back, smirk replaced with a cheeky grin. "Go get your dress on, Samantha, don't wanna keep your date waiting."

Sam bit his tongue to keep his comments to himself. It was fighting a losing battle to try and tell Dean to shut up on the Samantha comments. He'd tried in the past and failed spectacularly, and so it was simpler just to let sleeping dogs lie than to push their buttons.

Once he got into his room, Sam was faced with another issue, one that shouldn't have even been an issue, and if he were to voice it to Dean, he would be asked if he wanted a tampon to soak up his excess estrogen, but: He had no idea what he was going to wear. At all. They were just going out for drinks, right? That shouldn't be so hard to pick out an outfit for. He pulled open the top drawer of his dresser, pulling out a fresh pair of boxers and sliding them on before continuing his search.

It was just drinks at a bar - that meant that jeans were totally fine. But nice jeans, because it couldn't hurt to impress Gabriel just a little bit. Not that Gabriel hadn't seen Sam in jeans, basically every pair he owned, in the last 13 years they'd known each other. But still. Sam had a compulsive need to find a particularly nice pair; maybe the pair that Pam had said made his ass look amazing. Not that he wanted Gabriel to notice that but that had to mean they were nice jeans, right? And maybe he wanted Gabriel to notice just a little bit. So he crouched down and dug through his drawer until he found the jeans in question and tossed them over to his bed.

Again, it was a bar, which didn't mean he had to dress overly nice, so that meant he was free of needing a dress shirt. Into his drawers he went again, grabbing the first nice shirt he saw. He tossed that on the bed behind him too, a black v-neck, and straightened up. That should be good enough. He'd grab a jacket too, and call it done. It was casual, and yet he'd still look at least a bit nice. He picked up his towel off the floor, dropping it into the hamper by his door, and rolled on deodorant, looking at himself in the mirror over his dresser. His hair was still damp, settling around his face and ears in waves, and it would probably be fine to leave it, but he wasn't fond of the idea of going out with his hair still wet. He turned around, grabbing up his jeans off the bed and pulling them on, slipping a belt through the loops before opening his door and padding back down the hall to the bathroom to blow dry his hair.

Half way through, long bangs blown across his face, he was interrupted by Dean yelling over the hum of the blow-dryer. "Samantha you do know there is usually a no shirt-no shoes-no service rule at places, right? Unless Gabriel is that kind of guy..." Sam flicked the blow-dryer off, brushing his hair back, fixing Dean with a glare in the mirror. "Is he that kind of guy, Sammy? Do I have to sit him down and grill him about his intentions with my little sister? Also, you are planning to wear a shirt on this date, right?"

"Dean," Sam ground out in a warning tone.

"I'm just saying, Sam," Dean raised both hands in a peace offering. "I'm pretty sure he's going to want to eat off you whether or not you're wearing a shirt, but in the interest of preserving the other diners' experience, you should probably cover up."

"Dean," Sam said again, a little louder.

Dean clapped a hand on his shoulder, chuckling to himself. "I'm just checking up on you, Sam," he looked up, meeting Sam's eyes in their reflections. "It's kind of a big deal for you."

That caught him a bit by surprise. Dean, again, had a bit of an overprotective streak, but still, for something like this, seeing him become blatantly concerned, instead of hiding behind jabs and jokes, was a bit of a shock, even for Sam who was used to Dean's ways. "Yeah, I know," he shot his brother a confident grin in the mirror. "I'm fine, really, Dean. I'm going to put a shirt on and everything. You'll be proud, I've learnt how to dress myself."

Dean shook his head, turning to leave the room, a small smile on his face. "All right. If you're sure you got everything under control."

By the time Sam made it back to his room, pulled his v-neck on, slipped his wallet into his back pocket, and tugged an old tan scarf - a gift from Ruby - out of the recesses of his closet, Dean had gotten restless again and was on his feet again before Sam had finished pulling out his good brown ankle boots from the closet. Sam could hear him padding closer, and straightened up, reaching into the closet for his brown corduroy jacket, as Dean came to lean against the wall next to him. He was vaguely aware of Dean looking him up and down before his brother nodded once. "The scarf is an interesting touch, but I like it."

Sam smiled at his brother, slipping his hands into his jacket pockets. "Well, thanks mom, am I good to go now?"

Dean rolled his eyes, smirking, tugging a hand out of his own jeans' pocket. Sam wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but it hadn't been for a condom. Could Dean get anymore parental? Dean held it out between his fingers, waiting while Sam took the foil (emblazoned with 'FIRE&ICE') from him. "One, at least this way you'll feel something" -he didn't pause a beat for Sam's sputter of protest- "And two, I am not a mom. You're a mom. I mean, you got your girly scent all over everything for the last hour, that clearly means you're a chick, so mom."

Sam shoved the foil package into the back pocket of his jeans without thinking. "I do have condoms, Dean."

"But not Fire and Ice ones!" Dean countered. "Come on, gotta go all out for the event, you know?" He reached past Sam to unlock the apartment door and tug it open. "Get going. Text me if you're not coming home, got it?"

Glancing down at his stout, gruff brother, Sam found himself smiling broadly, stopping on his way out the door to tug Dean into a hug. When he drew back, to the tune of Dean muttering 'big girl', he stepped out of the apartment. "Thanks, Dean. You know, for..." He didn't say it. He didn't need to. Dean would understand. And from the chagrined looking smile on his face he understood completely.

"Go on, Samantha," he said, making shooing motions with the hand that wasn't holding the door open. He waited until Sam was nearly to the elevators before hollering, "And don't forget to use that rubber, Sammy!"

___

The whole walking on cloud nine thing hadn't quite died down for Gabriel when he'd gotten home. Though, cloud nine was a bit more maybe cloud eight or something with the way Gabriel was patting himself on the back for forwarding the Sam and Gabriel love connection that was finally, hopefully, with any luck, going to happen. Not like Sam didn't play a part in pushing them forward on their track, but still. He'd gotten back to his apartment in great spirits, messaged Cas the good news, then striped down and jumped in the shower. He'd already loosely had plans for this, and had pulled out clothes - Nice, dark navy jeans, and a wine red button down - so that he'd be ready to go. Doing this on a work night wasn't exactly ideal, but it was the earliest option Gabriel'd had and he wasn't planning on passing it up for anything. So it was best to be ready.

Ready had turned out to be him turned his stereo up loud (apparently Asia's "Heat of the Moment") after calling down to the local sports bar&restaurant and reserving them a table, and then all but strutting around his apartment, making sure it was clean, killing time really, until it would be safe to head down to the subway to meet up with Sam. Also pointedly not replying to Castiel's texts back asking if he was serious, if the entire silly dance was over, and what have you. Cas probably had enough sense not to try to text Sam until he heard back from Gabriel, just in case they were a) together; or b) something went horrifically wrong. If anything, he would text Dean, asking if Dean knew about it all. Gabriel knew his brother enough to foresee that. 

By the time 8pm rolled around Gabriel had had enough of the mindless attempts to kill time, grabbed his old but loved green utility jacket and left the building, heading down towards the stop, pulling his phone out to give Sam a heads up that he'd be there and waiting. He was a bit surprised, pleasantly so, when he got a text back almost immediately saying that Sam was just making his way up through the station and would be waiting when Gabriel got there. Grinning at the glowing screen of his phone, Gabriel tapped out a quick 'Eager, kiddo?' before slipping the phone back into his pocket and picking up his pace, the station visible and identifiable just down the road by the glowing circular sign atop the underground entrance and the mob of people coming out of the exit a bit further down the road.

If Gabriel had been surprised by the fact that Sam was going to be the one waiting for him, he should have been prepared for the pleasant surprises to continue. Maybe he'd been too busy patting himself on the back and maybe he'd thought that'd he'd seen everything this kid could dish out and he was immune to it. No matter what it was that had made him be unprepared for what was waiting for him just past the entrance to the subway station, the fact was that Gabriel hadn't been prepared in the slightest for the person looking over the posters around the community board that curved around one of the support pillars.

Sam looked good. Sam looked more than good, Sam looked great, mouth-wateringly gorgeous. Either he'd been trying to make himself up, or he hadn't and Sam had either thrown on whatever he had laying around and it had worked out fantastically, or Gabriel had lost the protection of whatever it was that had shielded him from the full force of Sam Winchester.

Then again, Sam wasn't wearing plaid for once. He had a tendency to gravitate to plaid when he was out of his professional uniform, Gabriel knew this well. But this whole thing with the v-neck was new, and Gabriel liked it. A lot. It occurred to him that what Sam was wearing probably wasn't striking anyone else as special, or highlighting (and damn did those jeans highlight Sam's ass - that definitely had to have been intentional), more as just casual wear, but he really didn't care and was sort of glad. Sam looked this good for him, to see him, and damn if that didn't give Gabriel just a little bit of a rush of blood to the head.

Which head, of course, was a matter of interpretation.

"Anything good?" he asked, stepping up next to Sam and slipping his hands into his jacket pockets. He may have smirked, just a little bit, at the way Sam jumped. He turned to grin up into Sam's face, just a little pleased about how Sam's gaze roved over him, not once but twice, apparently enjoying what it was he was seeing. "Evening, Sam."

"Hey," Sam replied, smiling, just a little crooked. "And no, nothing really, you uh, you ready to go?"

"Sure thing," Gabriel nodded towards the exit, heading that way. Sam caught up in no time, with those damn long legs of his, until he was walking at a leisurely stroll beside Gabriel.

"So, where are we going for this little date, anyway?" he asked. Gabriel chanced looking up at him, catching the giddy look in his eyes that contrasted with the set of his smile that was apparently going for cool and unaffected. That, really, was kind of cute. How hard it was trying to act like he wasn't as affected by this as he really was. It just meant that his reaction when he found out what Gabriel actually had planned for this date should be something of a reward for the shorter man.

"You'll see - it's just a little bar by my place. I figure, since we both have work in the morning, shouldn't be out too late," he had turned away from Sam, but he could feel the full force of the other's stare on him, and it was making him smirk just a little. "Don't want to waste the entire night in a bar, right?"

No, the night would be much better spent wasting away the hours working out years upon years of sexual tension, as far as Gabriel was concerned. But he also had a modicum of class and decorum, and the dinner part of this date was planned and crucial to him, considering how momentous for both of them this was. 

Sam took Gabriel's explanation at face value and they continued on their walk, crossing through the walkway of Gabriel's building, around its side and down onto the next street, discussing anything that came to mind as they went: Sam mentioned that Dean had been in full support of this date and they'd laughed at that, calling it a sign of the apocalypse; Gabriel had pointed out one of his weirder neighbours who appeared to be having an in-depth psychic argument with the squirrel sitting in the building's yard staring up at him. Small talk but comfortable talk. Talk that managed to disarm Sam long enough for him to realise that Gabriel wasn't pulling him up to a bar at all. When he did realise he stopped in his tracks, eyes flicking from the sign over the entrance to Gabriel, suspicion and disbelief overriding the giddiness.

"Gabriel, this isn't, uh," Sam pointed up at the sign. "This isn't a bar, I'm sure you're aware." His tone was undercut by a sort of confused laughter, and both eyebrows were raised in question.

"Well sure it's a bar, Sammy," Gabriel answered, all cheeky grin and quirked eyebrow of his own. "It's a sports bar. And restaurant. And I may have made us reservations on the restaurant side. But, yeah, this is a bar, kiddo."

Sam was gaping at him, full on gaping at him. It was actually really funny. He could see the smile lingering at the corners of Sam's mouth, that hint that he was really happy about this amid the shock that Gabriel had gone above and beyond what he had accounted for. "It’s a bar," he repeated, finally smiling, small at first but growing quickly to take up his whole face. Dimples, crinkling eyes, inner glow of happiness - everything that Gabriel loved when Sam smiled: and all because Gabriel had booked them dinner reservations, surprised him with a real dinner, instead of just beers at a bar counter?

It happened before either of them really had a chance to catch on that it was. One second Gabriel was shaking his head just slightly at Sam's dorky, happy grin. The next he'd reached up and wrapped that scarf of Sam's in both hands, and tugged him down, covering up Sam's shocked noise with a kiss.

And then Sam was melting into him, hands pressing softly against Gabriel's neck, thumbs brushing against his jaw under his ears, mouth following Gabriel's. For Gabe's part he was making good use of that scarf, pulling Sam along out of the direct line of the restaurant's entrance, nipping at Sam's lower lip, holding back a laugh when Sam made a small, soft sound and parted his lips, kissing back hungrily.

When they pulled back a few seconds later, both were out of breath, both were smiling loosely, Sam resting his forehead against Gabriel's. It hadn't been exactly what Gabriel had intended for his first kiss with Sam, but somehow it was perfect, and it was taking everything he had not to push back up into Sam's space and kiss him again. Instead, he pulled back just a touch, letting go of Sam's scarf, and grinning right in his face again. 

"It's a bar."


	4. Chapter 4

Sam would have thought that, considering that they had eaten lunch together almost every day for the last three years at work, that going out to dinner - not a bar, like Gabriel had said - should have been nothing out of the ordinary. But it was, though it was far from being in a bad way. It had been comfortable on a level beyond what he was used to normal, with this underlying tension that wasn't entirely unwelcome. He wasn't altogether shocked that when Gabriel had kissed him something in his chest had finally unlocked. He was grinning from ear to ear, laughing, he felt light and loose. It was weird. A tensely comfortable date. 

"So, Gabe?" Sam started. He was steeling himself up for this. They'd already basically confessed mutual attraction outside. What were a few more confessions, right? Gabriel looked up from his plate, where he was methodically separating his hot fudge brownie into sections, smiling.

"So, Sam," Gabriel drawled, leaning forward on the table. "Continue, I'm listening."  
Sam rolled his eyes, still smiling, "I have a little bit of a confession to make. Or, like, a few confessions," he set his hands side by side on the table, looking up for a second to make sure Gabriel was still paying attention. The fork laden with warm gooey brownie had made it into his mouth, but otherwise his eyes were still on Sam, lips still quirked in an interested smirk. "So, I've kind of had a thing for you for about thirteen years now."

That earned him a dropped fork and a 'what?'

He shrugged helplessly, a bit sheepish. Considering how today, how tonight was going, it seemed silly that he'd stupidly and quietly carried that torch as long as he had. But it had seemed to be the smart thing to do for so long. "Well, you know, the first time we met? When Cas introduced us for the first time? I was in sophomore year of high school, and you would have been in, I think your junior year of your undergrad?" Gabriel got a look on his face like he was thinking about it, and then nodded, still looking a little incredulous. "Yeah. That was when it started. I didn't know it then, exactly, hell, I didn't even know I liked guys but, you were the one who started all that, I think."

Gabriel raised both eyebrows. "Well, well. That's a bit shocking. That long, kiddo? Why didn't you-" he stopped, holding up a hand. "No, why didn't I jump you before now? Being honest I've probably been sweet on you, oh," he looked at the ceiling, clearly counting in his head. "I'd say, six years since I admitted it to myself, nine years total?"

Sam was a bit shocked. They'd each been harbouring feeling for years, damn years, and nearly of them had stepped up to the plate. "Wait, this isn't like you - if you were 'sweet on me' for six years - nine years - then why didn't you do the tried and true Gabriel Novak thing and come at me with the charm on full blast?"

Gabriel, to Sam's surprise, actually looked just a hint chagrined about that, raising his hands in an 'I don't know' gesture. "Couldn't tell ya. Well, I could," he paused to slide more of the brownie into his mouth. Sam waited for him to swallow before continuing, just slightly impatient to have this explained to him. "You're a bright guy, Sam, you had a bright future ahead of you, I didn't want to mess that up, distracting you and everything," he waggled his eyebrows. "Imagining trying to study for the Bar with me pawing all over you and trying to make you crack. No good for a lawyer-in-the-making, kiddo." Sam decided against interrupting and pointing out that he would have absolutely loved having Gabriel pawing all over him while he was trying to study for the Bar. "And then when you came to York General, I figured you might not be all that interested in an office relationship while you were trying to settle in. Maybe I got used to our routine, didn't want to shake it and ruin a good thing." He raised his fork, looking meaningfully across the table at Sam. "I guess that was the wrong thing to do after all, but, we're here now, so."

Sam nodded, smile back in place. "There is that to be thankful for. Next confession," he drummed his fingers on the table, watching the last small chunks of his ice cream slowly melt in the bowl. "I might have celebrated hard, like really hard, when I got the job at York General. Because it was your hospital. Dean had to put up with me calling across the apartment to him about how this was a sign and it meant that we'd be... Well," he resolutely ignored the heat he could feel just barely pricking at his cheeks. "I'm sure Dean's blocked most of what I said out, or I'd tell you to ask him."

Gabriel as already shaking his head, grinning like a wolf. "Oh no, Sam, you started that sentence, now you gotta finish it."

Sam huffed, leaning back in the booth and looking out the window into the parking lot of the restaurant, trying to hide his small grin. "I think it was something about how in a year we'd be banging in janitor's closets on our breaks." He looked back at Gabriel to gauge his reaction. He wasn't sold short on his expectation at all: Gabriel's wolfish grin was still in place, but he'd rested his chin in his hand, elbow on the table, the picture of smarmy interest.

"You wanna bang in closets on our breaks, kiddo?"

There was no way the shiver that ran down his spine was appropriate. "No!" Sam hissed, leaning forward a bit, fingers clenching on the edge of the table. "If we're 'banging' at all," he began in a hushed voice. "I'd rather the first time not be in a janitor's closet."

Gabriel stiffened for a second before he raised the hand that had been supporting his chin in the air, alerting their waiter. "Check please!"

Sam's stomach did a flip. That pretty much cinched what he had been vaguely banking on since he'd stepped into the shower earlier. Gabriel was basically flashing a neon sign in his face right now that was telling him 'You, me, my bed, right now'. The waiter brought the bill by in record time and Gabriel snatched it off the table before Sam had the presence of mind to look at the total so he'd know how much money to slip Gabriel later.

"Since we're making confessions," Gabriel started as he slipped a few bills into the small leather folder. "I have a few of my own." He got up, pulling his coat out of the booth behind him, and Sam followed his lead, shrugging into his corduroy jacket. Gabriel waved at their waiter and pointed briefly at the bill folder on their table. "Keep the change, man. You have a good night now," he put his hand on the small of Sam's back, steering him towards the doors. "Anyway, those confessions of mine. First, you celebrated getting the job at York, I celebrated getting to see you in a suit every day. You did not disappoint." They pushed out the doors of the restaurant, both putting hands in their pockets as they walked up the street towards Gabriel's apartment. "Second, I'm going to ask you to come home with me tonight, and I have no doubts you're going to agree." He paused here, smirking at Sam, making a motion with Sam to add his input.

Sam's rebuttal was to step quickly into Gabriel's space, backing him against the iron fence surrounding the lawn of Gabriel's building, and kiss him soundly, both lapels of Gabriel's jacket gripped in his hands. Gabriel made an appreciative noise into his mouth, tongue circling Sam's, hands making their crafty way between the lawyer's jacket and shirt, fingers brushing the sliver of skin showing between the hem of his shirt and waist of his jeans. Sam leaned back from the kiss, pulling in a breath, eyes still closed like he was trying to memorize how that had felt.

Gabriel drummed his fingers along Sam's sides, smirking, leaning up to speak in a hushed voice. "Proving me right?"

"Definitely proving you right," Sam answered in an equally hushed voice, his head spinning just a bit from anticipation and bliss. "What was that third confession?"  
Gabriel leaned back down, head tilted back, watching the sky for a moment while his fingers crept under the hem of Sam's shirt, dancing over warm skin. "Three," he began in a voice just about a whisper. "I could eat you alive in this outfit," he looked back at Sam, using the fingers on the other's skin to pull him just a smidge closer, pressing an open mouthed kiss to the exposed skin right at the point of Sam's v-neck. His eyes flicked up, meeting Sam's, which were darkening the longer they stood there. "I gotta say, I like this whole v-neck deal. And the jeans make your ass look great, kiddo - did you do that on purpose?" Sam had a feeling the sheepish smile on his face was the perfect answer. "But my confession? As damn delicious as you look in this outfit? I am going to have a whole lot of fun getting you out of it."

___

Gabriel's apartment was one of the nicer ones in the city, not ridiculously opulent, but nice. The main lobby was walled in mirrors, with the generic four legged armchairs, small dark wood side tables, little arrangements of fake plants, polished tile floor. It was welcoming, warm, and gave the appearance of depth when the room, really, was quite shallow. Gabriel had brought Sam over before - never just the two of them, though, once with Cas, another time with Rachel, Balthazar and Crowley while planning a special dinner for Dean and Cas' four year anniversary. He was familiar with the lobby and the semi hidden hallway off to the right of the entrance to the building where the quartet of elevators was. 

Regardless that he knew this, and that Gabriel knew he knew this, Sam was tugged towards that hallway by Gabriel's hand curled in his scarf while smirking in a way that was only slightly alarming to the middle aged couple they passed in the hall. Once they were in the elevator, the button for Gabriel's floor (the 12th) pushed, Gabriel laughed, jerking his thumb at the closed elevator doors. "Those two? Are my new neighbours. Haven't seen me outside of introductions and me tellin' 'em I'm a pediatrician," the smirk was back full force. "So, I think they'll be in for a fun little revelation tonight."

Sam rolled his eyes, grinning at the ceiling of the elevator car. "I'll try to keep it down, then." Gabriel's side pressed against his and he looked down, catching the shorter man's waggling eyebrows. 

"You a screamer, kiddo?"

The fact that he was mouthing wordlessly, colouring in the high points of his cheeks and gesturing without any real purpose only served to make Gabriel laugh again. "So I'm taking that to be a 'sometimes' and a 'you just gotta know what to do to me'. Good to know, I look forward to figuring it out."

"It - okay, first, how could you even tell, yes, okay?" Sam glanced at the elevator doors, checking his words as the doors opened on their floor and they stepped out into the empty hallway, walking towards Gabriel's apartment. "Sometimes, just a bit loud. Not all the time," Gabriel merely continued to smirk smugly. "Second, that isn't a challenge, Gabriel."

"I think it is!" Gabriel replied in a singsong voice, digging in his pocket for his keys. "Come on, Sam, we could make a little game out of it. We have the whole night ahead of us." He slid his key into the lock on the door, twisting his both the hand on the key and the hand on the doorknob, pushing the door open, tugging the key loose as it swung on its hinges. "Or, you know, the whole night if we intend to go into work as the walking dead tomorrow. Then again, I have a feeling..." He didn't finish his sentence but Sam had a vague idea that the end of it had something to do with it all being worth it. "Welcome to Chez Gabe, kiddo, you know the deal, mi casa es su casa."

Gabriel hadn't really changed anything about his apartment since the last time Sam had been there. He had to admit, he really quite liked everything about Gabe's place. The door opened onto a short hallway, off of which opened the small kitchen. Through the kitchen (and at the other end of the entrance hallway) was the living room, a wide, spacious thing that Gabriel had barely furnished with a large couch, and big screen television mounted on the wall across from the couch, a few small side tables, and a half dozen throw pillows. The long, back wall of the living room was dominated by the wine red hanging curtains that went across the sliding glass door onto the balcony. Sam knew from past visits that the balcony was fairly decent sized, with a small patio table and two plastic chairs. It overlooked the city, with a particularly gorgeous view of the small river that ran nearby, and the hills in the distance. On the other side of the entrance hallway was another short hall that led to the half-bathroom on one side, Gabriel's home office, where he kept his computer, medical texts, fax machine and other various files, on the other side. At the very end of the hall was Gabriel's bedroom. Sam had been in there before - walking through, as the full size bathroom was attached to Gabriel's room - and he still remembered being a bit floored. Gabriel's bed was huge. It had to be a king size bed, covered in a heavy looking duvet and another pile of pillows. The damn thing dominated the room, and with good reason. The only other things were two tall oak dressers, a night table, and a small chair in the corner. Gabriel was a simple guy, but that was only because he knew how to indulge himself without going overboard.

Sam toed off his boots, hand pressed on the wall for support while Gabriel wandered into the kitchen, flicking on the light over the oven and opening the fridge, peering inside. "You want a drink?"

"Um, yeah, sure," Sam said, slipping out of his jacket and turning to hang it in the small hall closet. He could feel the heat rushing through his blood, the anticipation building in his belly; it was fairly apparent that his body was ready for them to get back to being on schedule with what they'd very nearly been ready to start outside in the street. So Gabriel asking about whether or not he wanted a drink was throwing him for a bit of a mental loop. When he turned back around, Gabriel was standing there with a glass and a grin. 

"It's just water, sport. And don't look so down, I ain't getting cold feet about this. I just think maybe you should cool your jets for a second before you call Dean," he took a long drink from his own glass, nearly draining it. "I mean, I assumed that you intended to let big bro know that you wouldn't be coming home. I know you're a big boy, and he knows it, Lord knows you know it, but I wouldn't put it past him to flip out if he doesn't know where you are. And to be honest, I plan on sleeping in, I don't want to be awoken up by Dean blowing up your phone to make sure you're still alive and pure and innocent." He paused, frowning like he was analysing his own words. "Well, I assume you might not be the bible definition of 'pure and innocent' now, either, but, you know," a shrug and another sip. "He does tend to go a little Mama Bear over you, so."

Dean. Sam hadn't even thought to let Dean know how any of this was going. And considering he somewhat had Dean to thank for how everything was going, he really should take the time to fill his brother in.

But calling?

Sam shook his head, taking a drink from his glass. "I am not calling Dean," he reached into his pants pocket, tugging his phone loose. "I'll text him though, just to let him know not to expect me to be at home in the morning when he gets up." He began one handedly tapping out a message to Dean about the night going good and not coming home until tomorrow. Gabriel cleared his throat midway through, waiting until Sam looked up to point down at the floor by Sam's feet. Hitting send on the phone's screen, Sam turned around, looked down and...

"Oh." On the floor by his feet was laying the foil package that Dean had given him earlier, probably pulled loose when he'd taken out his phone. "That was from Dean." Well, this was going interestingly. Dean's precaution (and 'gift') into their date had managed to waltz its way onto the discussion table. Thankfully, Gabriel was laughing.

"Of course it's from Dean," he said, waving a hand as he knelt down, picking it up off the floor. "Fire&Ice, eh? Let me guess," he looked up at Sam, all cheeky grin and quirked eyebrow. "He said something along the lines of 'at least you'll feel something'?"

"Typical Dean," Sam supplied, but his mind was elsewhere. Like on the fact that Gabriel was kneeling - okay, crouching, but same difference - in front of him, looking up at him with those caramel gold eyes and, man, was it ever doing things to the way Sam's mind was working. Considering the less than family friendly tangent it had already been on, this really wasn't all that much of a stretch. And he was fairly sure Gabriel, who was shooting him a well timed wink from his position down there, knew it too.

"So, Sam," he started, straightening up and shucking his own jacket off, reaching past Sam to hang it in the closet. "I know for a fact that this is definitely not anything other than you being happy to see me." Gabriel's hand was on him, palming him through his jeans and boxers, and if Sam had been half-hard already he was quickly, quickly making his way towards full hardness now. He barely stopped himself from dropping the glass of water that he had still been holding, while his other hand came up and fisted in the soft material of Gabriel's dress shirt. For his part, Gabriel's eyes, while still sparking with mischief like they had a tendency to do, had gone dark, and hot, and they were fixed on Sam's, holding his gaze as his hand rubbed down the front of Sam's jeans. "Oh yeah," he breathed, leaning up into Sam's space. "Happy to see me?"

Sam was in motion before his lust-addled brain had a chance to really focus and think about anything. He, with some effort, moved away from Gabriel, putting his glass down heavily on the kitchen counter, then stepped back, flicking the lock on Gabriel's apartment door, before grabbing the other by the front of his dress shirt and tugging him in, kissing him hard. "Yeah, I think so," he managed to get out, drawing back from Gabriel's mouth just a little. "Can we..." he tugged Gabriel forward as he moved back, rather obvious of where he intended them to go. And it was obvious, by the way Gabriel moved forward, pushing Sam back on that path towards his bedroom, that he'd caught on. Especially when he surged forward, one hand curving around Sam's neck, and pulled him into a quick, hot, open mouthed kiss, still directing Sam back towards the door.

In a few steps he was pressed against it, hands too busy skimming over Gabriel's chest, sides, up under his shirt to press against his belly while his tongue licked over the curve of Gabriel's own to be bothered looking for the door handle. He was pretty sure he'd be fine pressing Gabriel up against the door and pushing into him, just so long as all this delicious push and pull and friction continued.

So when the solidity of the door behind him gave way, he was more than a little surprised. Considering he nearly went tumbling over himself onto the carpet, and would have taken Gabriel, who had been the one to manage getting the door open, with him. Sam managed to regain his balance, pausing for a second, staring at Gabriel. The shorter man didn't look nearly as put together anymore, hair mussed, lips red and swollen from kissing, eyes just a little wild. Sam had a feeling he wasn't exactly looking as well done up as he had when they'd walked into the apartment either. And the idea of the picture they probably created, the two of them with kiss swollen lips and lusty eyes and mussed hair had him laughing. Quiet at first, just a chuckle, but then Gabriel was barely containing laughter of his own, and Sam lost it.

"Ridiculous," Gabriel murmured, grabbing Sam by his scarf to tug him down for another kiss. This one, though, was different. The heated urgency of their other kisses was still there, but it was subdued, held back for the sake of a slower, softer kiss, that was so unlike the loud, brash Gabriel that Sam knew that he made a soft sound of surprise - good surprise - into Gabriel's mouth. Gabriel drew back in a chuckle, keeping his hold on Sam's scarf, turning and pulling him towards the bed with it. "I think Castiel was right when he told me that our relationship would be ridiculous in a way that we'd both enjoy," his hold on Sam's scarf loosened, leaving the invitation to his bed open while he sat on the edge, leaning back just a bit. Sam was close behind him, or, in front, more like, moving forward, forcing Gabriel to move back on the bed while Sam straddled his thighs, climbing onto the bed and leaning over Gabriel's reclining form.

"Our relationship?" He repeated, one eyebrow raised in question, bracing himself on his arms over the other. Gabriel's hands came up onto his scarf yet again, only this time they pulled it around and off him, tossing it somewhere over the other side of the bed, like he'd grown weary of it. Then those hands were back, lower, skimming under the hem of his shirt, and over the jutting lines of his hipbones, drawing just a little shiver from him.

"Yeah, kiddo, relationship." One of his hands continued slowly stroking over the slight dips and swells of Sam's abs, the other slipped loose, moving up and burying in Sam's hair, fingertips massaging at his scalp. "If this went that far. To be honest, though, I think I'm done with words for now, if it's all the same," he lifted his head, nipping at Sam's lips before catching them in another of those slow, sweeping kisses that were starting to make Sam's head reel. "We can talk about relationships maybe when we've worked out some of those thirteen years of sexual tension you're carrying around."

Gabriel couldn't have gotten into Sam's head better if he'd had a map and magical compass. Sam nodded, catching up Gabriel's lips in a bruising kiss, pushing him back into the bed. His arms curved, one down under Gabriel's shoulders and over his chest, brushing over his neck and jaw, fingers slipping up to thread through his hair. Gabriel's hands had more or less stayed where they were, one in Sam's hair, keeping him close, the other drifting teasingly over the rough patch of hair leading down into Sam's jeans. His fingers slid past the waistband, curving against it and tugging down. pulling Sam's hips flush against his own.

Sam gasped, mouth falling open, soundless as Gabriel licked and nipped at his lips. Gabriel hadn't been near as silent, and had let out a contented groan before licking inside Sam's open mouth. Even through the layers of their clothing, they could feel the weight and heat of each other. Even more so when Gabriel's hand curved over Sam's hip, over the swell of his ass, gripping and pushing the other's hips forward against his own.

That pulled a sound out of Sam; a low, growly moan, drawing back from Gabriel's mouth to eye the other, rolling his hips down as Gabriel rolled his up. Gabriel, the jerk, was smirking wide, his hand on Sam's ass, pushing, rocking him into Gabriel's roll. And it was hot, and it was good, and Sam was at a loss not to follow the push and press, grinding himself down onto Gabriel, kissing him again, quick, open-mouthed, sloppy things, panting and catching little moans of his own and Gabriel's between their mouths.

"Sam," Gabriel was pulling away from him - from his mouth and his kisses - smirk taking up its place on swollen lips like it had never left. The hand he'd tangled in Sam's hair pulled loose, coming down to press on Sam's chest. "Whoa there, tiger. Don't you think- Oh!"

Sam had a smirk of his own, and as far as he was concerned, he'd earned it. Granted, all he'd done was mimic Gabriel's advance from before, lifting himself enough to slip a hand between them, and palm at Gabriel through his jeans, but even so. It was somewhat gratifying to feel the heat and hardness against his skin, even if there was a layer of denim in between. Without his own clothing in the way he was free to press and rub his fingers and palm up and down the hard curve of Gabriel inside his pants, And was able to see the effect it had on Gabriel. He had a feeling it must be a damn good effect, what with the way Gabriel's eyes weren't leaving his, the way his smirk was still there - shaky, and disappearing every few seconds for a sucked in breath or a raking of teeth over lower lip - and the way he was pressing up into the attentions of Sam's hand.

"Read my mind, Sam," he said in a heavy voice, tipping his head back on the bedspread. "Big hands..."

Sam hesitated for all of three seconds. Gabriel's head lifted at the sound of his zipper being tabbed open, his mouth fell open for a witty retort to all this as Sam's thumb popped open his button. And then, for the first time in a long time, Gabriel shut his mouth - and squeezed his eyes shut, flopping back on the bed again - as Sam, unsurprised at the absolute lack of boxers, or briefs, or anything, wrapped one of his big hands around him, stroking upwards.

It was weird, surreal, almost like he was watching it happen, for a moment, not the one actually doing this. He could feel the weight and heat of Gabriel in his hand as he pumped up and down his length, heard the sucked in breath and soft, appreciative noise in the exhale, he could see the blissful smile on Gabriel's face and the way the other was watching him, eyelids low, just a glimmer of brown sugar focusing on his face. And for a moment, he really felt apart from it, and it was weird. Almost like he could see himself, hair mussed, eyes dark and lusty, tongue pressed between his teeth as he leaned forward to truly see those eyes.

Then he came rushing back to reality, leant forward the rest of the way, and crushed his mouth against Gabriel's. Straddling one of Gabriel's legs, pumping a fist up and down the other's cock, thumb brushing over the head, other hand gripping around Gabriel's bicep, like if he didn't cling he'd lose all sense of what was happening. Gabriel was pushing his hips up into Sam's hand, one arm slung loosely around his shoulders, hand fisted in the material of his black shirt, reminding Sam just how dressed they both still were while he drew back from Gabriel's mouth, burying his face in the other's shoulder.

But this, this first touch, his hand on Gabriel, and Gabriel responding so fully, was occupying him, he couldn't be bothered to stop to pull his shirt off, to take off his jeans, not even to undress Gabriel. Or hadn't thought to be bothered until Gabriel was chuckling, a bit breathy, in his ear. "Hey, kiddo," he tugged at the back of Sam's shirt, jerking up into his hand again as Sam slowly pressed his thumb against the head of his cock. "Don't you think... Nah."

Sam didn't have the chance to even raise questions of what Gabriel had been going to say. The other was faster than he'd assumed - or maybe his own senses and reaction times were dulled by the fog quickly filling up his head - but in any case, Gabriel had, in seconds and using the arm around Sam's shoulders, pulled Sam over to the side, flipped onto his back, and followed until he was straddling Sam's waist. And Gabriel, straddling his waist with his own jeans open, dick hard and exposed, hands pressed down on Sam's chest and smirk in place, had Sam's brain-fog condition worsening. Especially when Gabriel's hands pushed under the hem of his shirt, and began to slide it up, slipping it over the taut expanse of Sam's stomach before he got with the program and raised his arms, manoeuvring to help remove the apparently offensive material.

"Much better," Gabriel commented, leaning back up, fingers going to the buttons on his own shirt while Sam's moved to grip the curves of his upper thighs. The idea to flip him and regain control in these affairs occurred to Sam briefly but quickly hightailed it out of his considerations when Gabriel ground down against him. Rough denim on denim, dragging his ass over the hard bulge of Sam's dick in his pants. Gabriel hummed jovially, popping the last button and tugging the shirt loose off his shoulders. Sam's hands tightened just a bit. There was something about finally seeing Gabriel's body uncovered from a lab coat, dress shirt, t-shirt, something about seeing him like this, being with him and seeing him like this, that was making his heartbeat speed up. Gabriel wasn't made up, at all. He wasn't overly defined anywhere, soft, just a bit of a belly, what anyone else would call average, your typical healthy - but not overly so - young guy. But to Sam, who had grown up scrawny and then turned out bulky, and who had grown up with a brother who was admittedly kind of butch, Gabriel was beautiful, he was natural.

"Just thinking, if we're gonna do this, may as well get rid of the clothes." Gabriel spoke up, pulling Sam out of this revelry, bringing his hand down and running his forefinger down the dip of Sam's sternum, down the centre of his abs, curving under the edge of his jeans, popping the button. 

Something had changed. Gabriel was still smirking, still joking around, but something about the way his eyes were roving over Sam's face, down the expanse of his chest and stomach, then back to his face had changed. It was making Sam feel put on the spot, but not entirely in a bad way. He thought maybe this was how Gabriel had felt when he'd taken his shirt off and Sam had mentally gone to pieces. It wasn't unpleasant, feeling wanted, desired, by the person he wanted and desired so much himself.

Gabriel had wormed his fly down and was tugging insistently at his jeans, risen up on his knees so Sam could raise his hips. He pulled them down, past Sam's boxers, before moving, climbing off the other. "Get rid of 'em," he said with a wink, pushing at his own jeans. Sam snorted, sitting up to push and kick his jeans the rest of the way down his long legs, down towards the end of the bed. He was moving up and forward to toss them completely over the edge when Gabriel's hand pressed on his chest and pushed him back. Given what Sam caught when he looked at the other, he wasn't complaining. His jeans could find their own way off the bed.

Gabriel had stripped down to nothing, and Sam's fantasies had done the real thing no end of injustice. It was hard not to stare, even harder not to ask Gabriel to pinch him and wake him up. And then there were the other hard things; like Sam's dick. that gave an interested twitch between his legs, against the cotton fabric of his boxers, when Gabriel moved to sit between his spread legs. That surreal feeling was threatening again, particularly because this was how so many of his dirty little fantasies went. He reached out, tugging Gabriel in by the arm, licking at his lips, his tongue, before sweeping inside his mouth, getting more and more addicted on that taste that was so very Gabriel by the second. Gabriel's hands curved under his arms, thumbs rubbing circles over Sam's nipples while he twirled his tongue lazily around the taller man's. He was clearly content to take his time, and Sam wasn't begrudging him that, hands wandering of their own accord, curving over Gabriel's ass, pressing him closer, his vision almost whiting out at the desperate, hot need pooling in his groin.

The most delicious torture. Of course he would find it with Gabriel.

The body pressed against his shifted, pulling away, pushing him back. Gabriel was murmuring something, lips trailing over Sam's jaw, open mouthed kisses working down his throat to his collarbone, tongue darting out, lapping over the jut of bone. Sam melted back into the bed, hands resting against Gabriel's shoulders while he moved down over Sam's chest. A hot tongue dragged over his nipple, nimble fingers tweaking at the other. He sucked in air through his teeth, blunt fingernails dragging up his lover's - is that what Gabriel was now? - back.

Gabriel continued down, trailing kisses over Sam's stomach, hands drifting down to stroke the insides of his thighs, coaxing his legs further apart. Sam was paying rapt attention - how could he not - but the moment Gabriel shifted back, hovering over the bulge in his boxers, and looked up at him, he perked up. A bit literally, raising himself higher on his elbows, biting his lip, breath catching in his chest. This was so much like he'd imagined, that he'd spent dark nights in bed rubbing out a mess to. It was hard not to feel light headed.

The first touch of that hot mouth on him, over his boxers, against the wet cotton fabric, had him gasping, loudly, twisting the bedcover in his fists, and thankful that Gabriel's hands on his hips kept his surprised buck in check. He had way too much stored away in his head that even this was destroying in a beautiful explosion of heat and sensation radiating out all over his body. And now that Gabriel was hooking fingers in his waistband and pulling, he had a feeling he was about to find out just how short his fantasies had sold him.

His boxers were down and gone as soon as he'd clued in to raise his hips, and then he was holding his breath again, caught in the mischievous look in Gabriel's eyes as the other made himself comfortable between Sam's legs, stroking at him almost experimentally a few times. 

"Do you how many times I've..." Sam trailed off, biting down on his lower lip in a mix of panic, anticipation and frustration. The first because he'd nearly admitted to years of awkward relations with his hand; the second because Gabriel had been leaning in close, tongue just barely an inch from pressing against the base of his cock; and the third because, well, he'd spoken up and trampled all over the touch that the hot breath on his heated skin was teasing. But now Gabriel had stopped and was straightening up just enough for Sam to know he'd backed himself into a corner.

"How many times you've what, kiddo?" He asked, the slow slide and stroke of his hand distracting Sam from the question for just a second.

"I've, um," he trailed off in a hiss as Gabe slid his hand lower, pressing the pad of his thumb against the base, rubbing in circles. "Dammit, Gabriel, I've jacked off to the idea of you sucking my dick so many times, it's like a real problem." It all came rushing out in a ridiculous burst of words but Gabriel seemed to follow along well enough, if the wider spread of his smirk was any indication.

"Really?" he purred, wiggling into his previous position between Sam's legs, lapping at the base of Sam's cock, eyes trained on the younger man's face. Sam let out a quiet noise between a whimper and a moan, all feeling in his body localizing on where Gabriel's fingers pressed into his skin, and where his tongue was dragging up Sam's length. "I guess I have something to live up to."

Sam started replying. Or he thought he had. But all that came out was an incoherent noise and a jerk up higher on his elbows as Gabriel took him in his mouth, tongue swirling around the head. He was almost sure if Gabriel wasn't slowly sliding down, taking more and more of him in his mouth, he'd be laughing at him. His heartbeat was speeding up, his fingers were clenching and unclenching on the bedcover, and he was barely holding himself together enough to not try to buck into Gabriel's mouth.

Which was becoming significantly more difficult, given that he was hitting the back of Gabriel's throat and being swallowed around, Gabriel's tongue pressed against him. Like Gabriel was proving a point, that he could take Sam that deep. And Sam suspected that was it exactly, because in no time he was moving, sliding his mouth up and down along Sam's length, tongue teasing at the underside. One of his hands he'd moved to cup Sam's balls, rolling them in his hand, humming to himself in a way that was serving to drive Sam further up the wall because of the way it vibrated along his shaft, spilling more maddening heat into his blood.

It was driving him crazy, and he was sure Gabe had an idea of just how crazy; he wasn't exactly being quiet about it. He wasn't full out moaning like a porn star either, but Gabriel was pulling breathy moans and half formed words out of him like he'd been doing it forever.

"Gabe," Sam started, pulling his hand from the bed, threading it through Gabriel's hair, causing the other to slide open his eyes and give Sam an inquiring look, lips sliding to suck around his head. Sam's hand tightened in his hair and he bit back a moan, "Gabriel, please, if you keep this up," he gave him the best pointed look he could manage, hoping to get his meaning across. Gabriel slid off him without an argument, moving up to bed to kiss Sam lazily. The taste that Sam had already become hooked on was mingled with the tang of his precome, but it didn't deter him from kissing back, quite the opposite. Having had Gabriel going down on him had unlocked whatever last binding had been holding him back from surging forward, fighting Gabriel to dominate a kiss that was no longer lazy.

When they finally broke apart, both were breathing hard, Gabriel half-collapsed along Sam. "I stopped," he said conversationally. "What now?"

Sam stayed quiet, a hand slipping over the small of Gabriel's back, over the curve of his ass, waiting for Gabriel to get the hint. It took him no time at all to break into a grin, catching on.

"I guess I should grab the lube outta the nightstand, huh?" Gabriel rolled off him, towards the nightstand, jerking the drawer open. "By the way - if you want to use Dean's gift..." he glanced over his shoulder, not smirking though it was more than evident in his eyes. Sam jerked into motion, sitting forward. "I have normal, everyday rubbers, you know. But if you want to use Dean's gift."

"No way," Sam answered, moving towards Gabriel, leaning past him to snatch one of those normal condoms out of the open drawer, taking a moment to mentally take stock of everything that was in that drawer. "I don't want to think about Dean when... You know."

Gabriel shut the drawer, leaning back into Sam's space, the small bottle of lube between his fingers. "What, you don't want to think about your big brother when you're pounding me into the mattress?" Sam's answer was to snatch the bottle from Gabriel's hand and flip the cap open with his thumb.

"Not particularly, no," he waited while Gabriel got comfortable, laid back on the bed, laughing to himself. He paused a second, fingers coated in the slick fluid, bottle tossed to the side, one hand on the inner curve of Gabriel's thigh, the other poised somewhat to get this show on the road. "You're good with this?" That ripped another laugh out of Gabriel, who raised a foot, tapping him in the side. 

"Sam, I'm more than good with this. If you mean you screwing me, of course. In which case, definitely more than okay with this, and, please, continue. It's been a while, I don't exactly relish the idea of you pounding me into the mattress dry, no matter how much I want it. Now," he tapped Sam with his foot again, a little more insistent this time, quirking an eyebrow that spoke volumes. That was all the encouragement Sam needed, manhandling Gabriel just a bit until he was able to run his fingertip in a slow circle around the other's entrance, eyes flicking between watching what he was doing and watching Gabriel's face. The other still looked cocky and expectant; like he was challenging Sam to actually move this along.

So he did, pushing his middle finger in slow, past the tight ring of muscle, into Gabriel's heat. It seemed Gabriel was perfectly happy with this, cocky smile turning a little more towards being one caught between discomfort and bliss, taking a deep breath. "You okay?"

"I'm good, Sammy," he answered, and from the way the discomfort was bleeding from his smile while Sam slipped his finger in and out, lining up a second finger to push inside, he wasn't lying. Not that Sam had any concerns about hurting or breaking Gabriel with this - he may be smaller than Sam by almost a foot, but Gabriel Novak was anything but weak and breakable, was anything from being unable to handle this. The way he was pushing and wiggling his hips down onto Sam's fingers more than confirmed that and Sam added a third finger, spreading and twisting them inside.

Watching Gabriel smile like that, loose and blissful, pushing down to meet the slow thrusts of his fingers, was mesmerizing Sam. Mesmerizing him and trying his patience. He pushed his fingers deep, searching out that spot, just to see, just to know, and just to get Gabriel to say something, maybe along the lines of being ready to go.

When he found it, Gabriel's eyes flashed wide open and he arched against the bed, soundless except for a breathy gasp of Sam's name, tinged with a bit of surprise, like he'd gone off to lalaland, riding on Sam's fingers, and that had brought him crashing back. Sam couldn't help the twist of a smirk on his face, nor that he continued to rub and press his fingers forward on that spot until Gabriel heaved himself into a half sit, reaching down and gripping Sam's forearm in his hand.

"I'm good," he ground out in a low growl, hand staying on Sam's arm even though the other was already pulling his fingers out, other hand going for the condom he'd put by Gabriel's hip before. Gabriel's eyes were hot, like they were lit from inside by some kind of fire, and Sam suspected that they were. He reclaimed his arm to rip the foil package open, moving to roll the condom on, sucking in a happy breath when Gabriel swatted his hand back and finished the job for him, other hand snatching up the lube from where Sam had dropped it. He squeezed out a good amount out once he'd finished, reaching back down and curling his fist around Sam's cock, slicking him up liberally, drawing Sam closer to him by the smile on his face alone. "You're good?"

"I'm good," Sam answered immediately. "I'm better than good."

Gabriel hummed, laying back on the bed again, spreading his legs languidly. "Well?"

Sam didn't need to be told twice, sliding forward, tugging Gabriel's legs up, snug around his hips, head of his cock bumping against Gabe's slicked entrance. He took a slow breath, looking up the length of Gabriel's body, meeting his eyes. The cocky smirk was gone, the challenge wasn't there. It had all been replaced by anticipation and something else. Something that made Sam's stomach flip. Gabriel smiled, bright and full, and nodded once.

The first push inside was like heaven; everything Sam imagined it would be and yet he'd sold the experience so damn short. He was moving slowly, breath caught in his throat, every nerve ending in his body on fire, memorizing the feeling of the tight heat around him that was one hundred percent Gabriel. Gabriel had stiffened below him for a second, before turning to deep, steadying breaths, mouth hanging open just slightly. Neither of them made a noise until Sam was in, buried, hips pressed to Gabriel's ass, the other's legs snug around Sam's hips, Sam's hands lifting his hips from the bed. And they stayed like that for a second. 

Sam wasn't going to move until Gabriel was ready, no matter how that voice in his head was screaming at him to go, to thrust with the most wild of abandon into Gabriel and to do it now. He'd love to, he would love nothing more than to, but like Gabriel had alluded, there was no fun in this if Gabriel was in pain.

Gabriel nodded once, looking up at Sam with eyes that had gone dark and were begging for more, wanting more, than they had shown before. "Good," his voice was barely above a whisper, his hands moving to cover Sam's on his hips with another nod.

If the first push in had been heaven, then this was something beyond that. Sam was moving slow, pulling out and thrusting back in, relishing in the hiss that Gabriel made, in the way he tipped his head back, fingers digging into Sam's hands as he continued to thrust, pulling Gabriel onto him as he pushed forward into the other. Sam set a rhythm, and Gabriel followed it, pushing himself down on Sam with more exuberance than Sam had used to tug him in, making quiet little noises, moans, mewls. Seeing Gabriel like this, completely opened up to him, wanting and giving and taking in the same motions as Sam was, was mind-blowing. It gave Sam a heady rush of desire, of something heavier below that, pushing him to curl over Gabriel, hips snapping hard into him, hand coming off Gabriel's hip to cup his cheek, turn him towards Sam, and catch his lips in a sloppy kiss, swallowing up the moan Gabriel was making at the change of angle.

That change of angle and position, though, seemed to have been what Gabriel was waiting for. His legs moved, manoeuvring around Sam's hips until the balls of his feet could press on the bed. Then he was using that as leverage to tighten his knees, tighten, push and twist, catching Sam off guard and again flipping him onto his back. Gabriel's mouth against his curved upwards in a grin and he straightened up, staying still and composed on Sam's hips, like he wasn't impaled on his dick. Sam, on the other hand, was moving from confusion to vague annoyance, mostly with the way Gabriel was sitting on him but refusing to do anything.

Never mind that it had only been about seven seconds.

"Don't make that face, Sam," Gabriel scolded in a singsong voice, clearly recovering from the mindlessness he'd been on the brink of ten seconds ago. He looked like he was going to perch there a bit longer, relishing in Sam's annoyance, but something made him change his mind and give in, lifting himself on his knees, dropping back into Sam's lap with a clear look of absolute glee. Sam wasn't against this new position either. In the slightest. Not when Gabriel was taking him in impossibly deep with every slide back down into his lap, and not when his body clued in enough to respond and push up when Gabriel came down. It was all kinds of ridiculously hot, watching Gabriel run things from on top of him. He'd always suspected Gabriel to be dominating, and this wasn't exactly dashing his preconceived ideas against the rocks.

Hands all over, murmured encouragements and wordless moans. That was what they were reduced to, that and the ridiculously delicious point where their bodies met. Sam made a motion to touch Gabriel's cock, hard and dark with blood, and had his hand slapped away for it. "Nuh uh, I want to come from your dick alone," Gabriel said, a little breathless, leaning forward to brace his hands on Sam's chest, pushing down and back now. The change affected them both almost immediately. Gabriel made a high keening sound, Sam's grip on the other's hips tightened and his hips snapped up with more fervour. "Yes, God, just like this," Gabriel's face was close, so close, hovering over him, flushed, eyes mindless in the heat of the moment, but mouth twisted in that familiar grin - watered down to a shaky smile, but still, it was so much what Sam knew, so much the Gabriel he'd fallen for and had never expected to have like this. And it was that more than anything that had the heat pooling in his belly suddenly, the tension slowly seeping in, making him go rigid. Gabriel seemed only all too aware. He pushed back, hard, mouth falling open. 

He stopped moving, except for the grinding. The rotation of his hips on Sam, he had Sam right where he wanted him: pressed right against his prostate. For his part, with every grind of his hips, he clenched his muscles and gave a little thrust. It was too much; it was driving Sam right over the edge...

When he came, he saw stars. He saw damn constellations. It was the hardest orgasm he'd had in a while, and it ripped the air from his lungs in a loud moan, left him scrambling to keep a hold on Gabriel, to keep a hold on his consciousness. He was aware that Gabriel was laughing, breathy, yet breathless laughter, fingers digging into Sam's chest.

"Damn, kiddo," he commented, voice hoarse, alternating between pushing down onto Sam and grinding onto him. "That was - hah," through the fog, Sam could make out Gabriel's face twisting in ecstasy. "You looked-" Whatever it was that he had looked he didn't make out in the noise that Gabriel made. Whatever it was that he had looked didn't matter when he could feel the heat of Gabriel's release coating his stomach and chest, it certainly didn't matter when his ears were filled with Gabriel's repeated murmurs of his name.

It still didn't matter when Gabriel gingerly slipped off him, collapsing against the bed, against his side, panting into the crook of his neck. "That was fun."

Sam laughed, letting his eyes close, spread out on the bed, trying to catch his breath. That had really, truly happened. And it had been amazing, from beginning to end. It had lived up to every fantasy he'd had since he was in high school, then pulled them up and knocked them out. "Most fun I've had in a long, long time."

"Better be the most fun you've had in your life, Sammy," Gabriel joked, teeth grazing Sam's earlobe. There was a comfortable silence for a few moments in which Sam was beginning to wonder if they were falling asleep in the mess they'd made, including the condom that Sam hadn't been arsed to pull off yet. Gabriel's fingers tweaking his nipple convinced him otherwise. "C'mon. I don't want to get up, but this will be gross in the morning."

Sam groaned, but nodded, opening his eyes and shifting to sit up in the bed, reached down to tug the condom off and tie it.

"Bathroom," Gabriel said, answering his unanswered question. He slid off the bed over Sam's still outstretched legs, and Sam followed, something like a lost puppy. He tossed the condom into the small garbage can Gabriel had next to the toilet, then looked up to see where Gabriel had gotten off to.

The smaller man was standing by the shower, twisted the knobs and bringing the taps to run hot water. He stuck his hand under the spray, nodded, and tugged the dark blue shower curtain across the length of the tub. Glancing back at Sam, he winked, all sass and promise. "Care to join me?"

Was he supposed to be able to resist, after what had just happened?

The shower itself was short. The water was warm, washing over the two of them, sluicing away the white mess on Sam's torso - with notable help from Gabriel's soapy hands. They cleaned each other up, swapping particularly wet kisses, fingers running through each other's hair, rinsing it. 

The shower was short, but still longer than any shower Sam normally took.

By the time Gabriel shoved him back towards the bed, flicking off the bedroom light and following, Sam was exhausted in the best way. Everything felt relaxed, his mind was humming pleasantly, and he was warm in that kind of deep body way that only came from sincere satisfaction. They climbed under the covers, Sam moving to give Gabriel his space before he was yanked closer by a hand around his forearm.

Just before he lost consciousness, he was sure he heard Gabriel ask, "Why didn't we do this earlier?"

His response was pushing a leg between Gabriel's, twining with his, and murmuring, "Because we're ridiculous."


	5. Chapter 5

It wasn't a surprise that when Gabriel woke up in the morning, he was a little disoriented. For one, he felt amazing: languid and relaxed. A bit sore, but for the first time in a long time he was waking up feeling totally free, lively and more than ready, because Sam-

Sam.

The night before came crashing down on him and suddenly he was aware of how he was warm, probably because he was pressed against Sam, his back to Sam's chest, and Sam's arm was flung around his waist. It had taken Gabriel less than a second to clue in, once he'd woken up. Now he was laying very still, trying to immortalize every detail from the night before, and half-hoping he'd just woken up early and he didn't have to wake Sam, didn't have to get out of bed.

The hope was dashed when Sam started to stir, muttering into the pillow, arm tightening around Gabriel's waist. Gabriel snorted, reaching back to pat Sam's hip. Something gave him the feeling that Sam wasn't quite ready to get up and at 'em quite yet. Something told him Sam was going through the same motions he had.

"Time to face the world, kiddo," Gabriel said softly, turning to eye Sam over his shoulder. Sam had his eyes open, just barely, and was looking at Gabriel both like he was crazy and like he was the most amazing thing Sam couldn't believe he was sharing a bed with. It was a bit of a flattering stroke to his ego.

"Do we have to?" He asked, letting go of Gabriel to roll on his back and press the heels of his hands against his eyes. Gabriel chuckled, moving onto his other side, propping his elbow on the pillow, cheek on his hand.

"We showered last night to that we could sleep in today, kiddo. Remember?" he reached over, pushing a hand through Sam's hair, smiling at the way the taller man seemed to give up on waking himself up all the way and melted back into the pillow. "Saaam."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Sam groaned, opening his eyes and sitting up slowly, looking thoroughly displeased about this turn of events. "We have to get dressed and ready and head to work." He stiffened, looking around the room before turning to stare, vaguely horror stricken, at Gabriel. "Get dressed."

Gabriel blinked, rolling onto his stomach, stretching out catlike. "Yes? I mean, unless you want to go in buck naked." He sat up on his knees, raising an eyebrow. "Just so we're clear, I wouldn't be complaining, that is for sure."

Sam made a face at him, throwing off the sheet and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. Gabriel took his time admiring the way the muscles moved in his back as he stood, and shamelessly took his time admiring his ass. "You really do have a great ass, Sammy. Pamela was not telling tall tales on that one."

"Gabriel," Sam began, trying to sound exasperated, but not hiding the amusement in his voice very well at all. "What I am getting at is," he pulled on his boxers, bending down to grab his jeans and v-neck from the floor. "I can't get dressed; not for work, anyway." He shook his jeans out for emphasis. "Pretty sure I can't - and the possibility stands - present a proposal for what is basically euthanasia in a bad light, a request to sign a DNR in a good light, not in jeans in a v-neck, and definitely if I want the Garrisons to respect that I respect their feelings."

"Oh..." Gabriel nodded, getting out of bed himself. "That's a bit of a problem, yeah," he rubbed his chin, staring at his closet like his wardrobe would conveniently expand. "My clothes aren't gonna cut it either. Guess we shoulda thought about that last night, huh?" he shot Sam a cheeky grin that was met with a scowl.

"I wasn't thinking that far ahead. I figured showing up with clothes for today would seem a little bit desperate," he added with a bit of a sheepish smile.

Gabriel shrugged one shoulder, opening the closet and shoving his regular dress shirts aside, reaching to the very back. "Well," he tugged a large dark green shirt out, holding it up, looking between it and Sam critically. "You know, you're welcome to 'look desperate' next time. And the time after that. And I promise, next time I say it's a bar, I won't force a restaurant on you."

Sam seemed to be processing everything Gabriel had said over once more. "Next time?"

Gabriel held out the shirt, one eyebrow quirked. "This should fit you. It was a gift from Mr. Size-aware Castiel a few years ago. I haven't bothered to get rid of it yet because I'm sentimental," he waited for Sam to take the hanger from him before he continued. "And yes, next time. I'd like there to be a next time, Sam. I'd like there to be a load of next times. If you'd be okay with it. I waited nine years to end up here. I don't plan on letting this be it. Unless you do. I have a feeling that unless I botched last night, you didn't carry that torch for thirteen years just for a one night stand." He wasn't joking now, he wasn't smirking or raising eyebrows. He was being openly honest with Sam. They weren't walking away from this without defining what was going to happen for both of them.

Gabriel had expected a verbal response. What he got was Sam tossing the shirt he'd just handed him onto the bed, cupping his face in those big hands, and kissing him soundly. It was about as clear as things got. Even without Sam drawing draw and saying "Yes, I'm totally okay with next times," Gabriel knew.

They made a ridiculous picture: Sam in his boxers, holding Gabriel's face in his hands, Gabriel still naked as the day he was born with arms crossed over his chest, both beaming like they were the proud parents of a newborn baby or something equally ridiculous. Like coming to a non-verbal agreement that they were... together now?

"So, does this mean you and I are...?"

"Together?" Sam supplied, looking a little hopeful. "It does, right?"

Gabriel smirked, uncrossing his arms to jab Sam in the ribs. "Only if you let me go so we can do something about this horrific morning breath."

___

In the end, they had made it work. Sam went into work that day in his jeans (and hurried through the lobby, right to his office) and the shirt Gabriel had lent him, along with one of the pediatrician's ties. He had a spare sport jacket in his office that he could put on if the need arose. They had to make it work, so they'd made it work as best they could.

The subway ride in had been interesting. They'd seen a few of their colleagues, and none of them had seemed exactly surprised to see them board together, sit together, to see the way Sam tugged up his shirt collar when Gabriel pointed something out. It was like everyone but them had been in on some grandiose plot to finally put an end to their sexual tension and the Olympic torch race they were clearly training for and had been for years.

Not that either of them had cared about that too much. They could think what they wanted, though Sam suspected there wasn't much to speculate on after Gabriel had tugged him down into a quick, feverish kiss outside the subway station before they'd strolled into the hospital's lobby. Then he'd patted Sam's ass and danced off to pediatrics before Sam had the chance to tell him off for it.

Now, sitting in his office, logging into the hospital's database so he could check his e-mail and get his day planned out, Sam had to shake his head. Gabriel had said last night that Castiel had predicted their relationship would be 'ridiculous' - knowing Castiel, he meant ridiculous in the best way possible. It wasn't looking like Cas had been wrong either. Gabriel had already taken the time to e-mail him from his phone - thankfully not to Sam's work e-mail - when he'd gotten to his office, nothing but "Can't help but notice you forgot that scarf at my place - you have plans for it?" but it was enough to have Sam rolling his eyes. And considering the possibilities for that scarf. 

Well.

Finally, with a sigh of apprehension, he brought up his program for his work e-mail, expecting the absolute worst. The Garrisons were going to require to meet with him to go over the reasoning behind Callie's case and why it was best for the girl, and for them, to let her go. Worse, they were horribly offended by his proposal and they were suing the hospital on grounds of emotional trauma. What he found, however, was significantly more heartening, in a sense.

The Garrisons, after reading over his proposal many times, had agreed to his points. They had agreed to let Callie go, and she would be taken off life support Wednesday morning. But they did want one thing from Sam: they wanted to meet him and thank him for helping them understand. That was what the e-mail from Zachariah said. The one from the Garrisons was much more heartfelt, and included such choice sentences as 'we feel that while the hospital administration has been cold and detached from the matters that we have been dealing with, though you have never met us, you communicated to us on a personal level and brought across your concern for our family very well.' It went on to describe how they hoped to meet with him, as well as one of the nurses whom had been working under Hydeker for Callie, and the hospital's grief counsellor, sometime in the next week, to thank them personally for everything that they had done.

It was a little humbling that Sam was included with two individuals who had done everything in their power to preserve their daughter's health and preserve their state of mind, while all he had done was attempt to appeal to their senses. While Callie would be being put to rest the next morning, this was shaping up to be a good day.

There were a few other notices in his inbox: mostly minor disputes, though there was a rather heavy case being proposed, a workplace harassment complaint. It would be better to work on replying to the others and arranging their files together before he responded to that with his recommendations. He was just going to reply to that one when there was a series of rapid knocks on his office door, followed by the low mutters of a voice he knew well, and then...

"Sammy, I know you're in there, open up!"

Dean. And Cas, if the other voice was anything to go by. It just had to figure. Sam pushed away from his desk, walking to the door and opening it, eyebrows raised. "Can I do something for you?"

Dean didn't waste words; instead he reached forward, tugging down Sam's collar. "Huh. Weird. Tessa texted and said that Nancy - that quiet receptionist? - had said she saw you two on the train and that you'd been trying to hide a hickey. I had to know if you'd gotten all your high school out last night and actually had him leave any on you." He crossed his arms, shooting Sam a randy grin. "So, did Sammy have fun last night?"

Cas leaned forward, one hand on Dean's arm. "Perhaps we should continue this conversation in the privacy of Sam's office?"

"That sounds like a good plan," Sam agreed, stepping back and waving them into his office. "You two bailing on work or something?"

"Nah," Dean answered, dropping into one of the two chairs that were sat in front of Sam's desk. "Took an early lunch. Bobby told me to come back with the details. I decided to drag Cas away too, since, well," he grinned at Cas. "He could do with being out of that musty office of his, making lists of people the library needs to shake up for late fines."

"Dean, I have told you before that it is very important that this be done monthly," Castiel said in a voice of one who has scolded a petulant child too many times. "But we're here for Sam," he looked back at the lawyer, leaning against his desk with his arms crossed. "Sam. I take it last night went well?"

Sam couldn't help himself. He broke into a huge grin and nodded. "It was amazing."

"And?" Dean prompted, waving his hand in a motion to indicate Sam continue.

"And..." Sam repeated, eyebrows narrowing while he eyed his brother. "And?"

"He means," Cas cut Dean across. "You two are now...?"

"Oh!" Sam caught on, the grin coming back. "Yeah. We are."

"Say it."

Dean was grinning so wide, in this proud kind of way. It was kind of touching, that he was proud of Sam, even if the reason was a bit bizarre.

"We're together."

"Yes!" Dean was on his feet, fist pumping in seconds. "Come on, Cas, I gotta go read your big bro the riot act."

___

 

Two Years Down the Road...

"You were downstairs."

Gabriel didn't even hesitate to turn around and get a glimpse of Sam coming through the door before he spoke. He was laying out on the couch, eyes closed, arms behind his head, clearly having been in the process of attempting to get in a nap. Whether he had or not, Sam didn't know, though he did wince, closing the apartment door, flipping the lock. "You could smell it, huh?"

"Sammy," Gabriel started, sitting up and turning around on the couch, folding his arms on the arm and resting his chin on them. "I can smell that stuff a mile away. You're way too good to me."

Sam toed off his shoes, nudging them into the closet, setting his case and the bag he'd picked up downstairs on the floor to shrug his jacket off. "That's cheating. I don't know what you got me, you should have at least tried to pretend you don't know what I got you."

"Well, I wasn't one hundred percent sure what you had got for me, but you've basically spoiled it now," He beckoned Sam over with a crook of his finger, waiting until Sam had sunk into the couch next to him before he all but climbed into the other's lap, wrapping his arms around Sam's shoulders, kissing him with slow, languid licks over his lips and into his mouth. Sam's hands on his hips slipped back, pressing against the small of his back, purring contentedly into his mouth. When they drew apart they were both smiling in that 'Disney fairytale' way of theirs that always made Dean make fake gagging noises - loudly - if it happened in his presence. Though, really, he couldn't hide his grin, or take back the inevitable clap on Sam's shoulder and 'way to go, Sammy'.

"So that's why you snuck out when I was in the shower after we got back from work?" Gabriel asked, glancing over at the door.

In the two years since that amazing first night, a lot had changed. A year ago, Sam and Gabriel had gotten their own apartment, consolidated their furniture (though they kept Gabriel's bed, there was no getting rid of that thing), and moved in above a specialty chocolatier. It was a gorgeous apartment, and the downstairs neighbours gave Gabriel no end of joy, considering his gargantuan sweet tooth. Dean and Cas, at the same time, had re-signed Cas' lease for his building, though they'd upgraded to an apartment on the 19th floor, apartment 1906, and moved in together. It was the first time Sam and Dean had been apart in their lives, aside from when Sam had been away at law school. At first it had been weird, but a year later, they were sinking into routines, getting used to where they were.

It wasn't like they were alone, either. Castiel was Dean's rock, everything his brother could need and want in a life partner. In Sam's opinion, marriage was just around the corner. Gabriel insisted he could smell nuptials.

And Gabriel? Gabriel was the perfect person for him. Their relationship had been everything that Sam had ever hoped. It wasn't like they didn't have fights or disagreements, or get cold with each other. They did. But they had a tendency to make up fast, to admit their own faults and agree to their blame as laid by the other. And they were good for each other. Sam was all the seriousness that Gabriel didn't like to acknowledge he had a tendency to blow off. And Gabriel was all the humour that Sam didn't let himself dwell in for too long. They were good for each other. And Sam was more than happy, content, more than he'd ever been in any relationship before.

"Yeah. I wanted to book reservations for tonight. And then I went and got you something you aren't going to guess, and you aren't getting until tomorrow when we meet up with Cas and Dean," he ignored the pout that was being laid on thick by the pediatrician perched in his lap. "And then back here to pick you up your damn basket of chocolate."  
"You are a saint," Gabriel said, slipping off Sam's lap, creeping towards the chocolatier bag. He shot Sam a questioning look, the pout gone, instead replaced with a set of pleading eyes.

Sam waved his hand, grinning. "Go on. There's something in that bag you aren't expecting."

That had Gabriel hurrying his ass over to the bag, snatching it off the floor and walking back to the couch while digging through it. "Chocolate basket, bundle of bars, oh god, Sam, are these the liquid chocolate balls?" Sam nodded, grinning wide, waiting while Gabriel went through the bag of goodies. "Oh. Oh." Gabriel smirked, pulling out a small box as he sunk onto the couch next to Sam. "Chocolate body paint. We ran out months ago."

"I know," Sam answered, nonchalant. "I figured we should restock. Might make for a nice anniversary night, don't you think? Since we don't have to work tomorrow, being Saturday and all."

Gabriel quietly put the box back in the bag, set the bag down on the floor, and grabbed Sam by the tie, pulling him into a feverish kiss, hands slipping up to card through his hair.

"Happy anniversary," Sam whispered against his lips. It had been two years to the day since Gabriel had made a stupid joke and they'd finally confronted this thing. Two years since thirteen years of yearning had been completed in one perfect night, two years since nine years of holding back had amounted to just one 'yes'. Two years since Cas and Dean had spent the night celebrating their brothers no longer being blind to their desires with a heated night of their own. Two damn years, and Sam couldn't be happier. "I love you."

"Sam Winchester," Gabriel began, pressing another chaste kiss to Sam's lips. "You are a god among lawyers. Happy anniversary. I love you too, kiddo."


End file.
